P  Q 

2152 


THE  TIGER-SLAYER. 


A    ROMANCE 

OF  THE  FOREST  AND  PRAIRIE. 


TR.\.  y  'I  Mi:  KKKNCII  OF 

GUSTAVE    AIMARD. 

AUTHOR    OF  "T"  I'PKRS     OF     TIIK     .Ai:1  •  TII» 

FLOWER   OF   Till'    JMIA!  Ill  K/'   &c. 


NEW-YORK, 
E.  D.  LONG  &  CO.    NO.  iiG  ANN  STREET. 


P  11  E  F  A  C  E  , 


IT  is  hurdly  necessary  to  say  anything  on  behalf  of  the  new  aspirant  for 
public  fcvvor  whom  I  am  now  introducing  to  the  reader.  He  lias  achieved  a 
continental  reputation,  and  the  French  regard  him  proudly  an  their  Fcniraore 
Cooper.  It  will  be  found,  I  trust,  on  perusal,  that  the  position  he  has  so  rap- 
idly assumed  in  the  literature  of  his  country  is  justified  by  the  reality  of  hit 
descriptions,  and  the  truthfulness  which  appears  in  every  page.  Gustavo 
Ainmrd  has  the  rare  advantage  of  having  lived  for  many  years  as  an  Indian 
ainonjr  the  Indians.  lie  is  acquainted  with  their  language,  and  has  gono 
through  all  the  extraordinary  phases  of  a  nomadic  life  in  the  prairie.  Had  he 
:i  to  write  his  life,  it  would  have  been  one  of  the  most  marvellous  ro- 
mances of  the  age:  but  he  has  preferred  to  wrav<-  into  his  st«.:  traor- 
dinary  <-v  nts  of  which  hu  has  been  witness  during  his  chequered  life.  Be~ 
licvinjr  that  his  works  only  require  to  be  known  in  order  to  secure  him  as  fc- 
vorable  a  reception  in  this  country  as  he  has  elsewhere,  it  has  afforded  m« 
much  nat i.- faction  to  have  it  in  my  power  to  plmcc  them  in  this  garb. 

LASCELLKS    WKAXA1.1, 


THE  TIGEK-SLAYER 


BY  GUSTAVE  AIMARD, 


CHAPTER    I. 

LA      FERIA      I)  E      PLATA. 

FROM  the  earliest  days  of  the  discovery  of  America,  its  distant  shores  bo- 
came  the  refuge  and  rendezvous  of  adventurers  of  every  description,  whose 
daring  genius,  stifled  by  the  trammels  of  the  old  European  civilisation, 
sought  fresh  scope  for  action. 

•ne  asked  frbm   the  New  World  liberty  of  conscience — the   right   «»f 
praying  to  God  in  their  own  fashion  Bothers,  breaking  their  sword  blades  to 
convert  them  into  daggers,  assassinated  entire  nations  to  rob  their  p.M 
enrich  themselves  witii  their  spoils;  others,  lastly,  men  of  indomi' 
perament,  with  lions'  hearts  contained  in  bodies   of  iron,  recognising  n«  > 
die,  accepting  no  laws,  and  confounding  liberty  with  license,  formed,  almost 
unconsciously,  that  formidable  association  of  the  "  Brethren  of  the  Coast," 
which  for  a  season  n  :    tremble  f-r  her  possessions,  and    with  \\ 

Louis  XII.,  the  King-Sun,  did  not  disdain  to  treat. 

Tlu>  deMvndunts  of  1  '  •  •  •  ;  and 

whenever  any   revolnt'"-  after  a  short  struggle,  the 

I   of   the   population. 

grandsons  of  the  great  ad  f  achieving  inip1 

in  their  turn  under  the  leadership  of  heroes. 

At  the  period  when  we  were  in  \:w  ri< -:i  cham-r  allowed  us  to  witneos 
of  the  boldest  c  ronreived  and   carried  out  by  these  daring 

ad\v;i!ur  for  Some 

months  it  occupied  the  press,  and   aroused   the  curiosity  and  sympathy  of 
the  whole  world. 

Reason?,  which  our  readers  will  doubtless  appreciate,  have  I  to 

altei  the  oai     >  of  the  persons  who  played  the  principal  parts 
drama,  though  to  the  utmost  exactness  as  regards  the  facts. 

About  ten  years  back  the  discovery  of  the  r 

od  suddenly  the  adventurous  instincts  of  f  ;nd  int'-l' 

men,  who, 'leaving  country  and    family.  rush  d.  In; 

the  new  Eldorado,  where    the  •    with   misery  and  death, 

after  suffer!.  ati'-n^  hiiium-- 


8  «      THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

The  road  from  Europe  to  California  is  a  long  one.  Many  persons  stopped 
half  way  ;  some  at  Valparaiso ;  others,  again,  at  Mazatlau  or  San  iJlas, 
though  the  majority  reached  San  Francisco. 

It  is  not  within  the  scope  of  our  story  to  give  the  details,  too  well  known 
at  present,  of  all  the  deceptions  by  which  the  luckless  emigrants  were  as- 
sailed with  the  first  step  they  took  on  this  land,  where  they  imagined  they 
needed  only  to  stoop  and  pick  up  handsful  of  gold. 

We  must  ask  our  readers  to  accompany  us  to  Guayraas  six  months  after 
the  discove  ry  of  the  placers. 

In  a  previous  work  we  have  spoken  of  Sonora ;  but  as  the  history  we 
purpose  to  narrate  passes  entirely  in  that  distant  province  of  Mexico,  we 
must  give  a  more  detailed  account  of  it  here. 

Mexico  is  indubitably  the  fairest  country  in  the  world,  and  every  variety, 
of  climate  is  found  there.  But  while  its  territory  is  immense,  the  popula- 
tion unfortunately,  instead  of  being  in  a  fair  ratio  with  it,  only  amounts  to 
seven  millions,  of  whom  nearly  five  million  belong  to  the  Indian  or  mixed 
races. 

The  Mexican  Confederation  comprises  the  federal  district  of  Mexico, 
twenty-one  states,  and  three  territories  or  provinces,  possessing  no  internal 
independent  administration. 

We  will  say  nothing  of  the  government,  from  the  simple  reason  that  up 
to  the  present  the  normal  condition  of  that  magnificent  and  unhappy  coun- 
try has  ever  been  anarchy. 

Still,  Mexico  appears  to  be  a  federative  republic,  at  least  nominally,  al- 
though the  only  recognised  power  is  the  sword. 

The  first  of  the  seven  states,  situated  on  the  Atlantic,  is  Sonora.  It  ex- 
tends from  north  to  south,  between  the  Rio  Gila  and  the  Rio  Ma}ro.  It  is 
separated  on  the  east  from  the  State  of  Chihuahua  by  the  Sierra  Verde, 
and  on  the  west  is  bathed  by  the  Vermilion  Sea,  or  Sea  of  Cortez,  as  most 
Spanish  maps  still  insist  on  calling  it. 

The  State  of  Sonora  is  one  of  the  richest  in  Mexico,  owing  to  the  numer- 
ous gold  mines  by  which  its  soil  is  veined.  Unfortunately,  or  fortunately, 
according  to  the  point  of  view  from  which  we  like  to  regard,  it,  Sonora  is 
incessantlytraversed  by  innumerable  Indian  tribes,  "against  which  the  Inhabit- 
ants wage  a  constant  war.  Thus  the  continual  engagements  with  these 
savage  hordes,  the  contempt  of  life,  and  the  habit  of  shedding  human  blood 
on  the  slightest  pretext,  have  given  the  Sonorians  a  haughty  and  decided 
bearing,  and  imprinted  on  them  a  stamp  of  nobility  and  grandeur,  which 
separates  them  entirely  from  the  other  states,  and  causes  them  to  be  recog- 
nised at  the  first  glance." 

In  spite  of  its  great  extent  of  territory  and  lengthened  seaboard,  Mex- 
ico possesses  in  reality  only  two  ports  on  the  Pacific — Guaymas  and  Acapul- 
co.  The  rest  are  only  roadsteads,  in  which  vessels  are  afraid  to  seek  shel- 
ter, especially  when  the  impetuous  cordonazo  blows  from  the  south-west  and 
upheaves  the  Gulf  of  California. 

We  shall  only  speak  here  of  Guaymas.  This  town,  founded  but  a  few 
years  back  on  the  mouth  of  the  San  Jose,  seems  destined  to  become,  ere 
long,  one  of  the  chief  Pacific  ports.  Its  military  positien  is  admirable. 
Like  all  the  Spanish  American  towns,  the  houses  are  low,  whitewashed, 
and  fiat-roofed.  The  fort,  situated  on  the  summit  of  a  rock,  in  which  some 
cannon  rust  on  carriages  peeling  away  beneath  the  sun,  is  of  a  yellow  hue, 
harmonising  with  the  ochre  tinge  of  the  beach.  Behind  the  town  rise  lofty, 
scarped  mountains,  their  sides  furrowed  with  ravines  hollowed  out  by  the 
rainy  season,  and  their  brown  peaks  lost  in  the  clouds. 

Unhappily,  we  are  compelled  to  avow  that  this  port,  despite  of  its  am- 
bitious title  of  town,  is  still  a  miserable  village,  without  church  or  hotel. 


THE    TIGER- SLAYER.  9 

We  do  not  say  there  are  no  drinking-shops ;  on  the  contrary,  as  may  be 
imagined  in  a  port  so  near  San  Pranciscu,  they  swarm. 

The  aspect  of  Gtiaymas  is  sorrowful;  you  feel  that,  in  spite  of  the   efforts 
of    Europeans  and   adventurers  to  galvanise  this  popular 
tyranny   which  has   weighed    upon    it  for   three  centt:  ,-,\    it 

into  a  stato  of  moral  degradation  and  inferiority,  from  which  it  will  require 
years  to  raise  it. 

The  day  on  which  our  story  commences,  at  about  two  in  the  afternoon,  in 
spite  of  the  red-hot  sun  which  poured  its  beams  on  tl.e  town,  <Juaymas, 
generally  so  quiet  at  that  hour,  when  the  inhabitants,  ovcroon 
heat,  are  asleep  indoors,  presented  an  animated  appearance,  which  WOOM 
have  surprised  the  stranger  whom  accident  had  taken  thereat  that  iii" 
and  would  have  caused  him  to  suppose,  most  assuredly,  that  he  wax  about  to 
witness  one  of  those  thousand  pronunciamentos  whiclj  annually  break  out  in 
this  wretched  province.  Still,  it  was  nothing  of  the  sort.  The  military 
authority,  represented  by  General  San  Benito,  Governor  of  Guaymas,  was, 
or  seemed  to  be,  satisfied  with  the  government.  The  smugglers,  Irjjeros, 
and  hiaquis  continued  in  a  tolerably  satisfactory  state,  without  complaining 
too  much  of  the  powers  that  were.  Whence,  then,  the  extraordinary  ag- 
itation that  prevailed  in  the  town?  What  reason  was  strong  enough  to  keep 
this  indolent  population  awake,  and  make  it  forget  its  siesta  ? 

For  three  days  the  town  had  been  a  prey  to  the  gold  fever.  The  gover- 
nor, yielding  to  the  supplications  of  several  considerable  merchants,  had 
authorised  for  five  days  a  feria  de  plala,  or,  literally,  a  silver  fair. 

Gambling-tables,  held  by  persons  of  distinction,  were  publicly  open  in 
the  principal  houses;  but  the  fact  which  gave  this  festival  a  !  I  im- 

possible to  find  elsewhere  was,  that  monte  tables  were   displayed  in    r. 
street  in  the  open  air,  on  which  gold  tinkled,  and  where  everybody  possessed 
of  a  real  had  the  right  to  risk  it,  without  distinction  of  c:\-teor  color. 

In  Mexico  everything  is   done   differently  from   other  countries.     The  in- 
habitants of  this  country,  having  no   reminiscences  of  t  .ieh    they 
do  not  wish  to  forget,  no  faith  in  the  future  in   which    they  do  i: 
only  live  for  the  present,  and  exist   with   that  feverish   ener- 
races  which  feel  their  end  approaching. 

The  Mexicans  have  two  marked  tastes  which  govern  them  entirely,  play 
and  love.  We  say  tastes,  and  not  passions,  for  the  Mexicans  are  not  capable 
of  those  great  emotions  whi'-li  conquer  the  will,  and  overthrow  the  human 
economy  bv  developing  an  energetic  power  of  ;>•• 

The  group^  round  the  monte  tables  were  ir:  :iid  animate.).     Still, 

eveay thing  went  on  with  an  order  and    tranqnility  which  nothing 
although  no  agent  of  the    government    was    walking   about   the   •( 
maintain  a  Lr".rl  intelligence  and  watch  the  gamblers. 

About  half  way  up  the  ("allc  de    la    Merced,  <>n<'    of  t  '  in  Guay- 

mas and  opjxisitf  a  house  of  goodly  appearance,  the:-"   .-tr...d  :i  t;,! 
with  a  green  bai/.e    and   piled    up  with  gold  Oil  .iud  which  a  man  of 

about  thirty,  with  a  crafty  fa«    .  'h    a    [.ack    of  cards 

in  his  ha;.  :;iile  on  his  lips,  invited  by  the  I  lating  remarks 

the  numerous  spectators  who  1  him  to  tempt  fortmi". 

"  Com",  cab:illeros,"  he  said  in  a  honey-     I  l.ilc  turning  a  provocative 

glance  upon  the  wretched  men,  haughtily  draped  in  their  rags,  who  regard- 
ed him  with  extreme  indiflen  rmot  always  win;  b:  -ig  to 
turn,  I  am  sure.  IIer<«  are  one  hundred  ounces  :  who  will  <  :i  T* 

No  one  answered. 

The  banker,  not  allowing  himself  to  bi  let  a  tinkling  cascade  of 

ounces  glide  through  his  lingers,  \vhu>e  tawny  reflection  was  capable  of 
turning  the  most  resolute  head. 


10  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  It  is  a  nice  sura,  caballeros,  one  hundred  ounces :  with  them  the  ugliest 
man  is  certain  of  gaining  the  smiles  of  beauty.  Come,  who  will  covei 

them  ?" 

"  Bah,"  a  lepero  said,  with  a  disdainful  air,  "  what  are  one  hnndredo  un- 
ces  ?  Ilad  you  not  won  my  last  tlaco,  Tio  Lucas,  I  would  cover  them,  that 
I  would." 

"  I  am  in  despair,  Senor  Cuchares,"  the  banker  replied  with  a  bow,  "  that 
luck  was  so  much  against  you,  and  I  should  feel  delighted  if  you  would  allow 
me  to  lend  you  an  ounce." 

"You  are  jesting,"  the  lepero  said,  drawing  himself  up  haughtity.  Keep 
your  gold,  Tio  Lucas ;  I  know  the  way  to  procure  as  much  as  I  want,  when- 
ever I  think  proper;  but,"  he  added,  bowing  with  the  most  exquisite  polite- 
ness, "  I  am  not  the  less  grateful  to  you  for  your  generous  offer." 

And  he  offered  the  banker,  across  the  table,  his  hand,  which  the  latter 
pressed  with  great  cordiality. 

The  lepero  profited  by  the  occasion  to  pick  up  with  his  free  hand  a  pile  of 
twenty  ounces  that  was  in  his  reach. 

Tio  Lucas  had  great  difficulty  in  restraining  himself,  but  he  feigned  not  to 
have  seen  anything. 

After  this  interchange  of  good  offices  thkre  was  a  moment's  silence.  The 
spectators  had  seen  everything  that  occurred,  and  therefore  awaited  with 
some  curiosity  the  denoument  of  this  scene.  Senor  Cuchares  was  the  first 
to  renew  the  conversation. 

"Oh  !"  he  suddenly  shoutgd,  striking  his  forehead,  "  I  believe, by  Nucstra 
Senora  de  la  Merced,  that  I  am  losing  my  head." 

<;  Why  so,  cabaUero  ?"  Tio  Lucas  asked,  visibly  disturbed  by  this  exclam- 
ation. 

"  Carai !  it's  very  simple,"  the  other  went  on.  "  Did  I  not  tell  you  just 
now  that  you  had  won  all  my  money  ?" 

"  You  certainly  said  so,  and  these  caballeros  heard  it  with  me  :  to  your 
last  ochavo ;  those  were  your  very  words." 

"  I  remember  it  perfectly,  and  it  is  that  which  makes  me  so  mad." 

'  What!"  the  banker  exclaimed  with  feigned  astonishment,  "  you  are  mad 
because  I  won  from  you  ?" 

'•  Oh,  no,  it's  not  that." 

';  What  is  it,  then  ?" 

"  Caramba  !  it  is  because  I  made  a  mistake,  and  I  have  some  ounces  still 
left." 

'•  Impossible  !'* 

"Just  see,  then." 

The  lepero  put  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and,  with  unparalleled  effrontery, 
displayed  to  the  banker  the  gold  he  nad  just  stolen  from  him.  But  the  lat- 
ter did  not  wince. 

1   It,  is  incredible,"  said  he. 

;i  Eh  ?"  the  lepero  interjected,  fixing  a  flashing  eye  on  the  other. 

"  Yes,  it  is  incredible  that  you,  Senor  Cuchares,  should  have  made  such  s 
slip  of  memory.'' 

"  Well,  as  1  have  remembered  it,  all  can  be  set  right  now ;  we  can  contin 
ue  our  game." 

"  \\-ry  good  :  one  hundred  ounces  is  the  stake." 
"  Oh  no  !  I  haven't  that  amount/' 

>cnse  !  feel  in  your  pockets  again." 
:'It  is  useless;  I  know  I  haven't  got  it " 
"  That  is  really  most  annovino- " 
"How  so?"    " 
u  Because  I  have  vowed  not  to  play  for  less.' 


THE   TIGER-  B.  11 

"  Then  you  won't 

"I  cannot  ;  1  would  n.»i  COYOT  -MIC  .short  of  a  hundred." 

"Il'in  !''  the  lepero  went  on,  knitting  his  brows.  ;ui  in 

suit,  Tio  Luc  i 

The  banker  hud  no  time  to  reply  ;  for  a  man  of  I 
a  magnificent  black  horse,  had  stopped  for  a  few  Becondfl 
whil''  ned  to  t!i 

bankei-  and  the  lepero. 

"  Done  lor  one  hundred  oun«-  1,  as  1;.'  rknivd  :i  \v 

his  h  :  up  to  tin-  table,  on  which  he  dropped  a  purse  full 

The  t\vo  .speakers  suddenly  r.ii.-ed  tbeif  ! 

"  Here  are  t!.<  ballero,"  the  banker  ;  .  .f  an  in- 

cident which   temporarily  freed    him  from    a    - 
shrugged  his  shoulders  contemptuously,  and  looked  at  i 

••  Oh  !"  he  muttered  to  himself,  "  the  Tigrero  !      Has  he  0 
I  must  know  that." 

And   he   gently  drew  nearer  the  stranger,  and  presently  stool  by  hi 

He  was  a  tall  man,  with  an  olive  complexion,  a  piercing  glance,  and  an 
and  resolute  face.     His  dre.-s,  of  the   greatest   richness,  glistened  witli  gold 
and  diamonds.     He  wore,  slightly  inclined  over  his  left  ear,  a  broad-brimmed 
sombrero.  >nm>unded  by  a   golilla  of -fine   gold:  his  spencer  oi  blue   rlntn. 
embroidered  with  .silver,  allowed  a  dazzling  white  shirt  ; 
collar  of  which  passed  a  cravat  of  China  crape,  fastened  with  a  diamond 
hiscal/oneras.  drawn  up  round  the  hips  by  a  red  silk  scarf  with    gold-1: 
ends  and  two  rows  of  diamond  buttons,  were  open    at    the    >ide,  and  a! 
his  calaon  to  float  beneath  ;  he  wore  carjiccru  (or  herdsmen) 
leather,  richly  embroidered,  attached  below  the   knee    by  a 

;  while  his  -luamja,  glistening  with  gold,  hung  tastefully  from  his 
shoulder. 

Hi.-  hoisc.  with   a  small  head  and  legs  fine  as  spindle 
coutred  :  /'"*   armim  <lc  t.ujnn  and  the   zarape  fastened  to  the  croup,  ai.  . 
inagnilUvnt  </;/•///•/•'/    adorned    with   steel  chains,  completed   a   caparison  of 
which  but  a  faint  idea  can  be  formed  from  our  verbal  description. 

Like  all  Mexicans  of  a  certain  class  when  travelling,  th<  :irm- 

ed  from  In-ad  1  •>  foot  ;  that  is  to  say,  in  addition  I" 
saddle,  and  the  rille  laid  a-  -addle-bow,  he  had  al-o  by  Id- 

sword,  an  i  a    pair  <»f  pi-tols  in  his  girdle,  without  i 
silver  iiildd  hilt  could  il  of  one  of  hi.-  I" 

Such  as  we  have  described  him,  this    man   v. 

can  of  Sonora — ever  ready  Ibr  peace  or  war.  fearing  tfl     "lie  no  m- ., 
de-pi  r.     After  bowing  politely  to    : 

the  hu  I  him.  and  .-hniiled  them  while  In..!.;. 

•    A  L  friendly  glance   to  the   !  re,  gossip 

Cucha: 

u  A  i  I>on  Martial,"  the  other  replied,  lifting  ! 

.  brim  of  i. 

oiled. 

"Be  good  enough  to  cut  forme  while  1  liglitmy  pajillo." 
.<•  lepcro  ex.'lainu  d.  * 

El  Tigrero  (t  'dartial,  wi  may 

please  to  call  him,  took  a  gold  mecheru  from  his  pocket,  and  ca;  truck 

alight  win!  o  cut  the  cards. 

"Senor,"  the  hitler  .-aid  in  a  pi t.-ous  voice. 

'•What  is  it  ?" 

"  You  have-  lost," 

"  Very  well.     Tio  Lucas,  take  a  hundred  ounces  from  my  p 


12  THE   TIGEU-SLAYEll. 

«•  I  Lave  'hem,  your  excellency,"  the  banker  replied.  "  Would  you  please 
to  play  again  ?" 

4i  Certainly,  but  not  for  such  trifles.  I  should  like  to  feel  interested  in 
the  game." 

"  1  will  cover  an}*-  stake  your  excellency  may  like  to  name,"  the  banker 
said,  wlio.su  practised  e}re  had  discovered  in  the  stranger's  pur^e,  amid  a 
decent  number  of  ounces,  some  forty  diamonds  of  the  purest  water. 

"  ll'm  !  are  you  really  ready  to  cover  any  stake  I  name  ?" 

«  Yes." 

The  stranger  looked  at  him  sharply. 

'•  Kven  if  1  played  for  a  thousand  gold  ounces  ?" 

"  I  would  cover  double  that  if  your  excellency  dares  to  stake  it,"  the 
baker  said  impert.urbably. 

A  contemptuous  smile  played  for  the  second  time  on  the  horseman's 
haughty  lips. 

"  1  do  dare  it,"  he  said. 

"  Two  thousand  ounces,  then  ?:' 

"  Agreed. ' 

"Shall  I  cut?"     Cucharcs  asked  timidly. 

"  Why  not?"  the  other  answered  lightly 

The  lepero  seized  the  cards  with  a  hand  trembling  from  emotion.  There 
was  a  hum  of  expectation  from  the  gamblers  who  surrounded  the  table. 
At  this  moment  a  window  opened  in  the  house  before  which  Tio  Lucas  had 
established  his  monte  table,  and  a  charming  girl  leant  carelessly  over  tho 
balcony,  looking  down  into  the  street. 

The  stranger  turned  to  the  balcony,  and  rising  in  his  stirrups, — 

"  I  salute  ihe  lovely  Anita,"  he  said,  as  he  doffed  his  hat  and  bowed  pro- 
foundly. 

The  girl  bluVlifld,  bent  on  him  an  expressive  glance  from  beneath  her  long 
velvety  eyelasiies,  but  made  no  reply. 

"You  have  lost,  excellency^"  Tio  Lucas  said  with  a  joyous  accent,1  which 
he  could  nut  completely  conceal. 

"  Very  good,"  the  stranger  replied,  without  even  looking  at  him,  so  fascina- 
ted was  he  by  the  charming  apparition  on  the  balcony. 

"  You  play  no  more  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  double." 

"  W hat !"  exclaimed  the  banker,  falling  back  a  step-  in  spite  of  himself 
at  this  proposition. 

"  No,  1  am  wronir  ;  I  have  something  else  to  propose." 

"  What  is  it,  excellency?"  ' 

"  llo\vs  much  have  you  there  ?"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  table  with  a  dis- 
dainful gesture. 

"  Why,  at  least  seven  thousand  ounces." 

"  Not  more  ?     That's  very  little." 

Tiie  spectators  regarded  with  a  stupor,  mingled  with  terror,  this  extraor- 
dinary man,  who  played  for  ounces  and  diamonds  as  others  did  for  oehavos. 
The  girl  became  pale.  She  turned  a  supplicating  glance  to  the  stranger. 

"  1'lay  no  more,"  she  murmured  in  a  trembling  voice. 

"  Thanks,''  he  exclaimed,  "  thanks,  senorita ;  your  beautiful  eyes  will 
bring  me  a  fortune.  1  would  give  all  the  gold  on  the  table  for  the  suchil 
flower  you  hold  in  your  hand,  and  which  your  lips  have  touched," 

"  Do  not  play,  Don  Martial,"  the  girl  repeated,  as  she  retired  and  closed 
th«  window.  But,  through  accident  or  some  other  reason,  her  hand  let 
loo-i-  the  llower.  The  horseman  made  his  steed  bound  forward,  caught  it 
in  its  flight,  and  buried  it  in  his  bosom,  after  having  kissed  it  pa&Monatelt 
several  times. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  13 

"  Cuchares,"  ho  then  said  to  the  lepero,  "  tuni  up  a  card." 

The    latter   obeyed.     "Scis  de  copas  !"  he  .said. 

'•  Voto  a  brios!"  the  [Granger  i  xcluinud,  ••  the-  color  of  the  heart  we 
shall  win.  Tio  Lucas,  1  will  back  this  card  against  all  the  gold  you  have 
on  your  table." 

The    banker  turned  pale   and    hesitated ;  the    spectators   had    : 
lixe  1  u;),u  lii.n. 

'•  Bali  !;>  he  thought  after  a  minute's  reflection,  "  it  H  impossible*  fur  him 
to  win.  1  accept,  excellency,"  he  then  added  aloud. 

"  Count  the  sum  you  have." 

"  That  is  unnecessary,  senor  ;  there  are  nine  thousand  four  hundred  and 
fifty  gold  ounces.  (About  J$l;i7j5jPO  *Vl.;v 

At  the  statement  of  this  formidable  amount,  the  spectators  gave  vent  to  a 
mingled  shout  of  admiration  and  covetousn. 

••  I  fancied  you  richer,"  the  stranger  said  ironically.  "  Well,  so  be  it 
then." 

*•  Will  you  cut  this  time,  excellency  ?" 

"  No,  1  fiin  thoroughly  convinced  you  are   going  to  lose,  Tio   Lucas,  a 
wish  you  to  be  quite  convinced  that  I  h:jve   won  fairly.     In  consequen 
me  the  pleasure    of  cutting,  yourself.     You  will  then  be  the  artUin  of  your 
o\vn  ruin,  and  be  unable  to  reproach  anybody.*1 

The  isjxjctator.s  quivered  with   plc;is'.nv   o;i   seeing   the   chivalrous  way  in 
which  the  Granger  behaved.     At  this  moment  the  street  was  thronged  witU 
people  whom  the  rumor  of  this  remarkable  stake  had  collected  from    e 
part  of  the  town.     A  deadly  silence    prevailed  through  the  crowd, 
was  the  interest  that  each  lelt  in  the  sequel  of  this  grand    and    hitherto  un- 
exampled match.     The  banker  wiped    the  perspiration  that   beaded  on    his 
livid  brow,  and  seized  the  lirst  card  with  a  trembling  hand.     He  balanced  it 
for  a  few  :;econds  between  linger  and  thumb  with  manifest  hesitation. 

'•  Make  haste,"  Ouchares  cried  to  him  with  a  grin. 

Tio  Lucas  mechanically    let  the  car* I  fall  as  he  turned  his  head  away. 

"  Seis  de  copas!"  the  lepero  shouted  in  a  hoarse  voice. 

The  buukcj-  tittered  a  yclibf  pain. 

"  L  have  lost !"  he  mutt  red. 

"  1  \\as.Mire  of  it."  t lie    horseman  said,  still    impassible.     "  Cuchares,"  ho 
ad.led,  '-carry  that  table  and  the  gold  upon  it  to  Donna  Anita.     I  hhaii 
pcct  you  to-night  you  know  wi 

The  lepero  bowed  n  spect fully.      Av-i.-.'.ed  by  two  sturdy  fellow>,  he  r\ 
ted  the  order  he  had  ju>t  recehe  1,  and  entered  the    house,  while  the    stnin- 
grr  started  oil'  at  a  gallop;  and  Ti-»  l/:«-as,  >lightly   :  -lun- 

ning    blow    L5    l.;;<i    re(ti-,rd,    j.-hilij-oj.i.' 

who  forced  their  consolations  upon  him, — 

••  1  havi-  lo-t.  it  i>  true,  but.  again.- 1  a  vi-ry  fair  player,  and  for  a  good  hi 
Uah  !   I  shall  have  my  revenge  some  day." 

Then,  ?»o  soon  as    the    eLi.n  ttc    v  (be   |>oor  clcaiu 

lighted  it  and  walked  oil'  very  <-;diii;  rowd,  having    no    1. 

cuse  for  remaining,  also  disappeared  in  it.-,  turn. 


14  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

CHAPTER    II. 

DON    SYLVA    DE      TORRES* 

GUAYMAS  is  quite  a  new  town,  built  somewhat  from  day  to  day  according 
to  the  fancy  of  the  emigrants,  and  hence  no  regular  lines  of  streets  have 
been  maintained.  However,  we  had  better  mention  here  that,  with  the 
exception  of  a  few  houses  to  which  that  name  may  be  fairly  given,  all  the 
rest  are  frightful  (Jens,  built  of  mud,  and  deplorably  dirty. 

In  the  Callc  de  la  Merced,  the  principal,  or  to  speak  more  truthfully,  the 
only  street  in  the  town  (for  the  others  are  only  alleys),  stood  a  one-storied 
house,  ornamented  with  a  balcony,  and  a  peristyle  supported  by  four  pillars. 
The  front  was  covered  by  a  coating  of  lime  of  dazzling  whiteness,  and  the 
roof  was  flat. 

The  proprietor  of  this  house  was  one  of  the  richest  miiieros  in  Sonora,  and 
possessor  of  a  dozen  mines,  all  in  work  ;  he  also  devoted  himself  to  cattle 
breeding,  and  owned  several  haciendas  scattered  over  the  province,  the  least 
of  which  was  equal  in  size  to  an  English  county. 

I  am  certain  that,  if  Don  Sylva  de  Torres  had  wished  to  liquidate  his  for- 
tune, and  discover  what  he  was  really  wortlj,  it  would  have  realised  several 
millions, 

Don  Sylva  had  come  to  live  in  Guaymas  some  months  back,  where  he  ordi- 
arily  only  paid  flying  visits,  and  those  at  lengthened  intervals.  This  time, 
contrary  to  his  usual  custom,  he  had  brought  his  daughter  Anita  with  him. 
Hence  the  entire  population  of  Guaymas  was  a  prey  to  the  greatest  curiosi- 
ty, and  all  eyes  were  fixed  on  Don  Sylva's  house,  so  extraordinary  did  the 
conduct  of  the  haciendero  appear. 

Shut  up  in  his  house,  the  doors  of  which  only  opened  to  a  few  privileged 
persons,  Don  Sylva  did  not  seem  to  trouble  himself  the  least  in  the  world 
about  the  gossips  ;  for  he  was  engaged  in  realising  certain  projects,  whose 
importance  prevented  him  noticing  what  was  said  or  thought  of  him. 

Though  the  Mexicans  are  excessively  rich,  and  like  to  do  honor  to  their 
wealth,  they  have  no  idea  of  comfort.  The  jttmost  carelessness  prevails 
among  them.  Their  luxury,  if  I  may  be  allowen  to  employ  the  term,  is  bru- 
tal, without  any  discernment  or  real  value. 

These  men,  principally  accustomed  to  the  rude  life  of  the  American  des- 
erts, to  stiuggle  continually  against  the  changes  of  a  climate  which  is  fre- 
quently deadly,  and  the  unceasing  aggressions  of  the  Indians,  who  surround 
them  on  all  sides,  camp  rather  than  live  in  the  towns,  fancying  they  have 
done  everything  when  they  have  squandered  gold  and  diamonds. 

The  Mexican  houses  are  in  evidence  to  prove  the  correctness  of  our  opin- 
ion. With  the  exception  of  the  inevitable  European  piano,  winch  swaggers 
in  the  corner  of  every  drawing-room,  you  only  see  a  few  clumsy  bvtacas, 
rickety  tables,  bad  engravings  hanging  on  the  whitewashed  walls,  and  that 
is  all. 

Don  Sylva's  house  differed  in  no  respect  from  the  others  ;  and  the  master's 
horses  on  returning  to  the  stable  from  the  watering-place,  had  to  cross  the 
salon,  all  dripping  as  they  were,  and  leaving  manifest  traces  of  their  passage. 
At  the  moment  when  we  introduce  the  reader  into  Don  Sylva's  house,  two 
pei-sons,  mule  and  female,  were  sitting  in  the  saloon  talking,  or  at  least  ex- 
changing a  few  words  at  long  intervals. 

They  were  Don  Sylva  and  his  daughter  Anita.  The  crossing  of  the  Span- 
ish and  Indian  races  has.  produced  the  most  perfect  plastic  type  to  be  found 
anywhere.  Don  S3-lva,  although  nearly  fifty  years  of  age,  did  not  appear  to 
be  forty.  lie  was  tall,  upright,  and  his' face,  though  stern,  had  gr«at  gentle 

ess  imprinted  upon  it. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  15 

lie  wore  the  Mexican  dress  iii  its  most  rigorous  t  »thes 

were  so  rich,  that  few  of  his  countrymen  could  have  equalled  it,  much  less 
SHI  j,;i-sed  it. 

Anita  who  reclined  on  a   sofa,  half  buried  in   masses   of  silk   and   gan/.e, 
like  a  humming-bird  concealed  in  the  moss,  was  a  charming  girl   of  ei-hteen 
at   the  most,  whose  black   eyes,   modestly  shaded   by  long   vel\< 
were  full  of  voluptuous  promise,  which  was  not  gainsaid  l.y  the    undulating 
and  serpentine  outlines   of  her  exquisitely  modelled  boty.     Her  >li- 
gestures  had  grace    and   majesty  completed  by  the   ravislnn  !   In  r 

coral  lips.     Her  complexion,  slightly  gilded  by  the   Am 
to  her  face  an  expression  impossible  to  render;  and  lastly  her  whole   p. 
exhaled  a  delicious  perfume  of  innocence  and  candor  which  attnu-tn!  .-ympa- 
thy  and  inspired  love. 

Like  all  Mexican  women  when  at  home,  she  merely  wore  a  light  robe  of 
embroidered  muslin ;  her  sash  was    thrown  negligently  over  her   shoulders, 
and  a  profusion  of  jasmine  flowers  was  intertwined  in  her  bluish-bhu-k  tres- 
ses.    Anita  seemed  in  deep  thought.     At  one  moment  the  arch  of  her 
brows  was  contracted  by  some  thought  that  annoyed  her,  her  bosom  In 
and  her  dainty  foot,  cased  in  a  slipper  lined  with   swan's  down,  impatiently 
tapped  on  the  ground. 

Don  Sylva  also    appeared  to  be   dissatisfied.    After  directing  a  severe 
glance  at  his  daughter,  he  rose,  and  drawing  near  her,  said  : — 

"  You   are  mad,  Anita :  your  behavior  is  extravagant.     A  young,  well- 
born girl  ought  not,  in  any  case  to  act  as  you  have  just  done." 

The  young  Mexican  girl  only  answered  by  a  significant  pout,  and  an  al- 
most imperceptible  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

Her  father  continued, — 

';  Especially,"  he  said,  laying  a  stress  on  each  word,  "  in  your  position  as 
egards  the  Count  de  Lhorailles." 

The  girl  started  as  if  a  serpent  had  stung  her,  and  fixing  an  interrogato- 
ry glance  on  the  haciendero's  immovable  face,  she  rcplieol, — 

"  I  do  not  understand  you,  my  father." 

"  You  do  not  understand  me,  Anita  ?    I   oannot  believe  it.     Have  I  not 
formally  promised  your  hand  to  the  count?" 

•;  What  matter,  if  I  do  not  love  him?     Do  you  wish  to  condemn  me  to 
ifel-.iiu-  luU-ry  ?'' 

"  On  the  contrary,  I  regarded  your  happiness  in  this  union.     I  have   only 
yon,*  Anita,  to  console  me  for  the  mournful  loss  of  your  beloved   m- 
Poor  child  !  you  are  si  ill.  thank  Heaven,  at  that    happy:.  heart 

•iot  know  itself,  and  when  the  words  'happiness,  unhappine.v  . 
meaning.     You  do  not  love  the  count,  you  say.     All  the  better;  your 
is  free.     AY  hen,  at  a  Inter  date,  you   have  had  occasion  to   appr 
noble  qualities  of  the  man  I  give  you  a.s  husband,  you   will  i 
for  havii,  -  ii  a  marriage,  which  to-day  causes  you.-**  much 

"  Stay,  father,"  the  girl  said  with  an  air  of  vexation.  i    is    not 

fiv  .  and  you  ;  :  ire  of  the  fact." 

"  I  know,  Donna   Anita  dc   Torres,"  the   hacicndero 
••  that  a  love  unworthy  yourself  and  me  cannot  enter  your  heart.     Th: 
my  aiuv-t-iis  1  am  a  Christiano  Vi.j,,;  and  if  a  few  drops  o.  blood 

be  mingled  in  my  veins,  what  1  <  ?:ie  memory  of  i 

the  more  deeply  engraved  on  my  mind.     The  first  of  our  iaiiiii\ .  Ant«>j; 
Sylva,  lieutenant  to  Hernando   ('orte/,  m:irri«  •!.  it   i-.   t;  prin- 

cess of  the  family  of  Moctecu/.oma,  but  all  the  other  branch e    ;u  •  >j;.mish." 

"Are  we  not  Mexican  then,  my  father?" 

"  Alas!  my  poor  child,  who  can  say  who  we  are  and  what   are  we  ?     Our 
unhappy  country,  since  it  shook  off  the    Spanish  yoke,  has   been   struggling 


1C  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

.lively,  and  is  exhausted  by  the    incessant   efforts   of  tliosw   ambitious 
iiu-ii.  win)  in  :i  few  years  wi.l  have  robbed  it  even  of  that   nationality  which 
much  difficulty   in  achieving.     These  disgraceful   contests  rendei 
us  tin-  humiiinir-stocks  of  other    people,  and   above  all,  cause  tiio  joy  of  our 
•:N,  who  with  their  eyes  invariably  fixed  upon   us,  are  prepar- 
ing tu  enriofa  themselves  with  our  spoils,  of  which   they  have   pilfered  some 

already  by  robbing  us  of  several  of  our  rich  provinces." 
,t,  fat  in  r.  1  am  a  woman,  and  therefore  unaffected  by  politics.     I  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  gringos?  , 

-  More  than  you  c-au  imagine,  my  child,     I  do  not  wish  that  at  a  given  day 
the  immense,   property  my  ancestors  and   myself  have  acqtiired  by  our  toil 
hlio  ;M  become  the  prey  of  these  accursed   heretics.     In   order   to   save  it,  I 
have  resolved  on  marrying  you  to  the  Count  de  Lhoraill  s.     lie  is  a  French- 
man, and  belongs  to  one  of  "the  noblest  families  of  that  country.     Besides  he 
.andsome  and  brave  gentleman,  scarcely  thirty  years  of  age,  who  cern- 
hims  the  most  preri<. us  moral    qualifications   with   the  physical.     He  is  a 
meiiib'.  r  of  a  powerful  and  respected  nation  which  knows  how  to  protect  its 
.•is,  in  whatever  corner  of  the  world  they  may  be.      By  marrying  him 
your  Ibrtune  is  shdtred  from  every  political  reverse." 
';  I  Jut  I  do  not  love  him,  father." 

"  Nonsense,  my  dear  babe.  Do  not  talk  longer  of  that.  I  am  willing  to 
forget  the  folly  of  which  you  were  guilty  a  few  moments  back,  but  on  condi- 
tion that  you  forget  that  man,  Martial." 

rcr'P 

"  Never  !  that  is  a  long  time,  daughter.     You  will  reflect,  I  am  convinced. 

this  man  ?     what   is  his  family  ?     Do  you  know  ?     lie  is 

called  Martial  el  Tigrero.    Yoto  a  Dios,  that  is  not  a  name  !    That  man  saved 

your  life  by  stopping  yourhor.se  when  it  ran  away,     Well,  is  that  a   reason 

lor  him  to  fall  in  love  with  you,  and  you  with  him  ?    I  offered  him  a  magnif- 

reward,  which  he  refund  with  the  most  supreme  disdain.     Tbere  is  an 

end  of  it,  then  ;  let  him  leave  me   at  peace.     1   have,  and  wish  for,  nothing 

more  to  do  with  him." 

I  love  him,  father,"  the  young  girl  repeated. 

u  Listen,  Anita.  You  would  make  me  angry,  it  I  did  not  put  a  restraint 
on  myself.  Enough  on  that  head.  Prepare  to  receive  the  Count  de  Lhor- 
nillcs  in  a  proper  manner.  I  have  sworn  that  you  shall  be  his  wife,  and, 
Cristo  !  it  shall  be  so,  if  I  have  to  drag  you  by  force  to  the  altar  !" 

The  haciendero  pronounced  these  words  with  such  resolution  in  his  Voice, 

with  and  such  a  fierce  accent,  that  the  girl  saw  it  would  be  better  for  her  to 

:>r  to  yield,  and  put  a  stop  to  a  discussion  which   would  only  grow  more 

embittered,  and  perhaps  have  grave  consequences.     She  let   her  'head   fall, 

and  was  silent,  while  her  father  walked  up  and  down  the  room  with  a  very 

i^lied  air. 

The  door  was  partly  opened,  and  a  peon  thrust  his  head  discreetly  through 
the  crev'uv. 

%  \\ln\t  do  you  want  ?"  Don  Sylva  asked  as  he  stopped. 

•ncy,"  the  man  replied,  "acaballero,  followed  by  four  others  bear- 

ng  a  tal.lt-  covered  with  pieces  of  gold,  requests  aiv  audience  of  the  senorita/' 

baoendero  shot  a  glance  at  his  daughter  full  of  expressive  ness.     Don- 

nta  1«  t  her  head  sink  in  confusion.     Don  Sylva  reflected  for  a  moment 

tin  u  Ins  countenance  cleared. 

t  him  come  in,"  he  said. 

'"  peon  withdrew  ;  but  he  returned   in  a  few  seconds,  preceding  an  old 

bares,  still  enwrapped   in  his  ragged  zarape.  and  directing 

a  who  ouried  the  tuble.     On  entering  the  saloon,  Cuchares  un- 

1   iv.-.pectiully,  courteously  saluted  the   haciendero  and  his  daughter, 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  17 

and  with  a  sign  ordered  the  porters  to  deposit  the  table  in  the  centre  of  tho 
apartment. 

,''  lie  said  iu  a  honied  voice,  "  the  Senor  Don  Martial,  faithful  to 


the  pledge  lie  had  made  yon,  humbly  s  ipplicatcs  you  to  lux-opi  his  gains  at 
inonte,  as  a  feeble  testimony  of  his  devotion  and  admiration." 

"  Yo  i  r.iseal  !"  Don  JSylva  angrily  exclaimed  us  he  t(n;l;  :>.  -•(.•.•;)  toward  liira 
"Do  you  know  in  whose  presence  yon  are  ?'' 

"In  that  of  Donna  Anita  and  her  highly-rfsiKjeted  parent,''  the  scamp  re 
plied  imperturbably,  as  he  wrapped  himself  majestically  in  his  tatters.  "J 
have  not,  to  my  knowledge,  failed  in  the  roped  1  owe  to  Ix^th." 

"  lie  off  at  once,  and  take  with  yon  this  gold,  which  does  not  concern  my 
daughter.'' 

"Kxcuse  me,  excellency,!  received  orders  to  bring  the  gold  here,  and  with 
your  pjp.nission  I  will  leave  it.  Don  Martial  would  not  forgive  me  if  1  acted 
other.  vise." 

"  1  do  not  know  Don  Martial,  as  it  pleases  yon  to  style  the  man  who  sent 
yon.  I  wish  to  have  nothing  in  common  with  him." 

"Tiiat  i<  possible,  excellency  ;  but  it  is  no  aff.tir  of  mine.  You  can  havo 
an  explanato-.i  with  him  if  yon  think  proper.  For  my  part,  as  my  mission 
is  accomplished,  I  kiss  your  hands.7' 

And,  after  bowing  once  more  to  the  two,  the  lepero  went  ofT  majestically, 
followed  by  his  four  acolytes,  with  measured  steps. 

"See  there,"  exclaimed  Don  Syha  violently,  "see  there,  my  daughter,  to 
what  insults  your  folly  exposes  me  V 

"  AM  in  ii!t"  father  ?"  she  ivpliH  timidly.  "On  the  contrary,!  think  that 
Don  Martial  has  acted  like  a  true  caballero,  and  that  he  gives  me  a  great 
proof  of  his  love.  That  sum  is  enormous." 

"  Ah  !"  Don  Sylva  said  wrathful  ly.  "  that  is  the  way  you  take  it.  Well,  I 
will  act  as  a  caballero  aho,  voto  a  brios  !  as  you  shall  see.  Come  here,  some 
one  !  ' 

Several  peons  came  in. 
,';  Open  the  windows  !" 

Tlii'-ervunts  obeyed.  The  crowd  was  not  yet  dispersed,  and  a  large  num- 
ber of  persons  was  still  collected  round  the  house.  The  haeiendcro  leant  out 
and  by  a  wave  of  his  hand  requested  silence  The  crowd  was  in-tinrtivjy 
silent,  and  drew  nearer,  guessing  that  something  iu  which  it  was  interested 
was  about  to  happen. 

••  S  ,  irea  eaballeros  y  amijos  (gentlemen  and  friends),"  the  hacicndero  be- 
gan in  a  powerful  voice,  "a  man  \vhom  I  do  not  know  has  dared  to  o:i'"r  to 
my  d.i'iguter  the  money  he  has  won  at  monte.  Donna  Anita  spurns  such 
-jr-cially  when  they  come  from  a  person  with  whom  she  does  not 
wish  t»  have  any  connection,  friendly  or  otherwise.  fc»he  begs  me  to  di  .trib- 
ute this  gold  among  you,  as  she  will  not  touch  it  in  any  way  :  she  desires 
thus  to  prove,  in  toe  presence  of  yon  all,  the  contempt  she  feels  for  a  man 
who  has  dared  to  olRr  her  such  an  insult.  *' 

The  speech  improvised  b^  the  hurieii'lero  was  drowned  by  the  fricn/ied 
applause  of  the  leperos  and  other  assfin'nlrd  beggars,  whose"  eyes  sp.irkled 
with  gre.'d.  Anitii  felt  the  bui%:n'ng  1  tan  sw<  i'.i  •;._:  her  eyelids.  In  spite  of 
all  her  efforts  to  remain  nndistr.rbed,  h-  r  In-art  wa.s  almo.-t  brnl-n-n. 

Troubling  himself  not  at  all  about  his  daughter,  Don  Svlva  ordinal  his 
servants  to  cast  the  ounces  into  t!ie  street.  A  f  gold  the-i  literally 

begi-i  falling  on  the  wretches,  who  rushed  with  incredible  nrdor  o)r-this  new 
species  of  manna.  The  Calk-  de  la  Merced  offered,  at  that  moment,  the 
most  singular  sight  imaginable.  The  p,M  poun-d  and  poured  on  ;  it  seemed 
to  be  inexhaustible.  Th  '••  -iped  like  coyotes  on  the  precious  metal, 

overthrowing  and  trampling  under  foot  the  weaker. 


18  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

At  the  height  of  the  shower  a  horseman  came  galloping  up.  Astonished, 
confounded  by  what  he  saw.  he  stopped  for  a  moment  to  Jook  around  him ; 
then  he  drove  his  spurs  into'  his  horse,  and  by  dealing  blows  of  his  chicote 
all  around,  he  succeeded  in  clearing  the  dense  crowd,  and  reached  the  haci- 
endoro's  h.  .use,  which  he  entered. 
••II  re  is  the  count,"  Don  Sylva  said  laconically  to  his  daughter. 

ithin  a  minute  that  gentleman  entered  the  saloon. 

••Hal'loli!"  he  said,  stopping  at  the.  doorway,  "  what  strange  notion    is 
•  'on.  Sylva?     On  my  soul,  you  are  amusing  yourself  by  throw- 
ing iiiiii"ii>;i-;  out  of  the  window,  to  the  still  greater  amusement  of  the   lepe- 
ros  and  other  rogues  of  the  sume  genus  !" 

••  A':, ';;  v.'i,  Senor  Conde,"  the  haciendero  replied  calmly ;  "you  are 
welcome,  f  r  hall  be  with  you  in  an  instant.  Only  these  few  handsful,  and 
it  will  be  finished." 

"  Don't  hurry  yourself,"  the  count  said  with  a  laugh.  "1  confess  that 
the  fancy  is  original ;"  and  drawing  near  the  young  lady,  whom  he  saluted 
with  (  vmisite  politeness,  he  continued, —  . 

••  \Yi>:il:l  y«u  deign,  senorita,  to  give  me  the  word  of  this  enigma,  which, 
I  contc.-s,  interests  rne  in  the  highest  degree  ?" 

'•  Ask  my  father,  senoiy '  she  answered  with  a  certain  dryness,  which  ren- 
eonversation  impossible. 

•ant  ft-igned  not  to  notice  this  rebuff;  he  bowed  with  a  smile,  and 
falling  into  a  bntacca^  said  coolly, — 
"  I  will  wait  ;  I  am  in  no  huiry." 

The  haciendero,  in  telling  his  daughter  that  the  gentleman  he  intended  for 
her  husband  was   a   handsome  man,  had  in  no  respect  flattered  him.     Count 
Maxinie  (Jaetan  de  Lhorailles   was  a  man  of  thirty  at   the  most,  well-built 
and  active,  and  slightly  above  the  middle  height.     His  light  hair  allowed  him 
>nised  as  a  son  of  the  north;  his  features  were  fine,  his  glance  ex- 
;  ve,  and  his  hairls  and  feet  denoted  race.     Everything  about  him  indica- 
ntleman  of  an  old  stock;  and  if  Don  Sylva  was  not  more  deceiv- 
ed :il.<mr  the  moral  qualities  than  he  had  been  about   the  physical,  Count 
de  Lhorailles  was  really  a  perfect   gentleman.  , 

At  lengtu  the  haciendero  exhausted  all  the  gold  Cuchares  had  brought : 
he  then  hurled  the  table  into  the  street,  ordered  the  windows  to  be  closed, 

ie  back  to  take  a  seat  by  the  side  of  the  count,  rubbing  his  hands. 
"  There,"  he  said  with  a  joyous  air,  "  that's  finished.     Now  I  am  quite  at 

vice." 
"  First  one  word." 

it." 

"  Excuse  me.  •  You  are  aware  that  I  am  a  stranger,  and  such  as  thirsting 
for  instruction." 

11  listening  to  you." 

"Since  1  have  lived  in  Mexico  I  have  seen  many  extraordinary  cnstoms. 
:it  tobe /;/«se  about  novelties ;  still,  I  must   confess  that  what  I   have 
just  seen  surpasses  anything  I  have  Hitherto  witnessed.     I  should  like  to  be 
certain  whether  this  is  a  custom  of  which  I  was  hitherto  ignorant." 
u  What  are  you  talking  about?" 

iff hy,  what  you  were  doing  when  I  arrived — that  gold  you  were  drop- 
1  neficent  dew  on  the  bandits  of  every  description  collected   be- 

11-  house ;  ill  weeds,  between  ourselves,  to  be  thus  bedewed." 
burst  into  a  laugh. 

~  X*      _ 


it  ia  not  a  custom  of  ours,"  he  replied. 
t.     Then,  you  were  indu' 


___  indulging  in  the  regal  pastime  of  throwing 
scum.     Plague  !  Don  Sylva,  a  man  must  be  as  rich  as  your- 
self to  a!l»\v  Mich  a  gratification." 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  19 

"  Things  arc  not  as  you  fancy." 

"  Still  I  saw  it  raining  ounces." 

'•  True,  bat  the}'  did  not  belong  to  me." 

"  Better  ir.id  better  still.  That  renders  the  affair  more  complicated  ;  you 
heighten  my  curiosity  immensely." 

"  1  will  satisfy  it." 

u  I  a:u  all  attention,  for  the  affair  is  growing  as  interesting  to  me  as  a 
story  in  the  ;  Arabian  Nights.'" 

""ll'm!"  the  haciendero  said,  tossing  his  head,  "it  interests  you  more  than 
you  pi-rhaps  suspect." 

"  How  so  ?" 

"Yon  shall  judge." 

Donna  Anita  was  in  torture  ;  she  knew  not  what  to  do.  Seeing  that  her 
father  was  about  to  divulge  all  to  the  count,  she  did  not  feel  in  herself  the 
courage  to  be  present  at  such  a  revelation,  and  rose  tottering. 

':  Gentlemen,"  she  said  in  a  feeble  voice,  "I  feel  indisposed;  bo  kind 
enough  to  allow  me  to  retire." 

"  Really,"  the  count  said,  as  ho  hurried  towards  her,  and  offered  her  his 
arm  to  support  her,  "you  are  pale,  Donna  Anita.  Allow  me  to  accompany 
you  to  your  apartment.-' 

"I  thank  you,  cabal lero,  but  T  am  strong  enough  to  proceed  there  alone, 
and,  while  duly  grateful  for  your  offer,  pray  permit  me  to  decline  it." 

"  As  you  please,  senorita,"  the  count  replied,  inwardly  piqued  by  this  re- 
fusal. 

Don  Sylva  entertained  for  a  moment  the  idea  of  ordering  his  daughter  to 
remain;  but  the  poor  girl  turned  towards  him  so  despairing  a  glance  that 
he  did  not  feel  the  courage  to  impose  on  her  a  longer  torture. 

u  Go  my  child,"  he  said  to  her. 

Anita  hastened  to  take  advantage  of  the  permission;  she  left  the  salon, 
and  sought  refuge  in  her  bedroom,  where  she  sank  into  a  chair,  and  burst 
into  tear-. 

••  What  is  the  matter  with  Donna  Anita  ?"  the  count  asked  with  sympa- 
thy, so  soon  as  she  had  gone. 

••  V.ipoiy,  heuliche,  what  do  I  know  ?"  the  haciendero  replied,  shrug- 
ging his  shoulders.  "All  young  girls  are  like  that.  In  a  few  minutes  sho 
will  have  fo'-otten  it" 

"  All  the  better,     f  confess  to  3*011  that  I  was  alarmed." 

"  But  now  that  we  are  alone,  would  you  not  like  me  to  give  you  the  ex- 
planation of  the  enigma  which  appeared  to  interest  you  so  much  ?" 

"  On  the  contrary,  speak  without  further  delay  :  for,  on  my  part,  I  haye 
several  important  matters  to  impart  to  you." 


20  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

CHAPTER    III. 

THE     TWO    HUNTERS. 


five  miles  from  the  town  is  the  village  of  San  Jose  deGuaymas, 
commonly  known  as  theRancho. 

This  miserable  pueblo  is  merely  composed  of  a  square  of  moderate  size,  in- 
tersected at  right  angles  by  tumbledown  cabins,  which  are  inhabited  by  Hi- 
aqui  Indians  (a  large  number  of  whom  hire  themselves  out  annually  at  Guay- 
nias  to  work  as  porters,  carpenters,  masons,  &c.),  and  all  those  nameless  ad- 
venturers who  have  thronged  to  the  shores  of  the  Pacific  since  the  discove- 
ry of  the  Californian  plains. 

TL-  road  from  G  nay  mas  to  San  Jose  runs  through  a  parched  and  sandy 
plain,  on  which  only  a  few  nopals  and  stunted  cactuses  grow,  whose  withered 
brandies  are  covered  with  dust,  and  produce  the  effect  of  white  phantoms 
at  night. 

The  evening  of  the  day  on  which  our  story  commences,  a  horseman,  folded 
to  the  eyes  in  a  zarape,  was  following  this  road,  and  proceeding  at  a  gallop  to 
the  llai.cho. 

The  sky,  of  a  dark  azure,  was  studded  with  glittering  stars  ;  the  moon, 
whidi  had  traversed  one-third  of  her  course,  illumined  the  silent  plain,  and 
Indefinitely  prolonged  the  tall  shadows  of  the  trees  on  the  naked  earth. 

'\  ii.-  horseman,  doubtlessly  anxious  to  reach  the  end  of  a  journey  which 
was  not  without  peril  at  this  advanced  hour,  incessantly  urged  on  with  spur 
and  vol-o  his  horse,  which  did  not,  however,  appear  to  need  this  constantly- 
renewed  encouragement.  He  had  all  but  crossed  the  immense  uncultiva- 
ted plains,  and  was  just  entering  the  woods  which  surround  the  Ranch  o, 
when  his  horse  suddenly  leaped  on  one  side,  and  pricked  up  its  oars  in  alarm. 
A  sharp  sound  announced  that  the  horseman  had  cocked  his  pistols  ;  and, 
when  this  precaution  had  been  taken  against  all  risk,  he  turned  an  inquiring 
.glance  around. 

••  1-Vur  nothing,  caballero,"  a  frank  and  sympathetic  voice  exclaimed  ;  "  but 
have  the  kindness  to  go  a  little  farther  to  the  right,  if  it  makes  no  difference 
to  you."' 

The  stranger  looked,  and  saw  a  man  kneeling  under  his  steed's  feet,  and 
holding  in  his  hands  the  head  of  a  horse,  which  was  lying  nearly  across  the 
road. 

"  What  on  earth  are  you  doing  there  ?"  he  asked. 

"  You  can  see,"  the  other  replied  sorrowfully,     "  I  am  bidding  good-by  to  - 
my  poor  companion.    A  man  must  have  lived  a  long  time  in  the  desert  to  ap- 
preciate the  value  of  such  a  friend  as  he  was." 

"  That  is  true,"  remarked  the  stranger,  who.  immediately  dismounting, 
added,  «  Is  he  dead  then  ?" 

;  No,  not  yet  ;  but,  unfortunately,  he  is  as  bad  as  if  he  were."  "With  these 
words  he  sighed, 

The  stranger  bent  over  the  animal,  whose  body  was  agitated  by  a  nervous 
quivering,  opened  its  eyelids,  and  regarded  it  attentively. 

"  Your  horse  has  had  fa  stroke,"  he  said  a  moment  later.     "  Let  me  act." 

Oh  !"  the  other  exclaimed,  "  do  you  think  you  can  save  him  ?" 
"  I  hope  so,"  the  first  speaker  laconically  observed. 

Ctiui  !  if  you  do  that,  we  shall  be  friends  for  life.     Poor  Negro  !  my 
old  comrade  !" 

horseman  bathed  the   animal's  temples  and  nostrils  with  rum  and 
.    At  the  end  of  a  lew  moments,  the  horse  appeared  slightly  recovered, 
>  fed<  d  eyes  began  to  sparkle  again,  and  he  tried  to  rise. 
Hold  him  tight,"  the  improvised  surgeon  said. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  21 

"Be  quiet,  then,  my  good  beast.  Come,  Negro,  my  boy,  quieto,  quieto  > 
it  is  lor  your  good,"  ho  said  soothingly. 

The  intelligent  animal  seemed  to  understand.  It  turned  its  head  towards 
its  master,  and  answered  him  with  a  plaintive  neigh.  The  horseman,  during 
this  period,  had  been  feeling  in  his  girdle;  and  bending  again  over  the  horse: 

"  Mind  and  hold  him  tightly,"  he  again  recommended. 

"  What  are  you  going  to  do  ?" 

«  Bleed  him." 

"  Yes,  that  is  it.  I  knew  it  but  unfortunately  I  did  not  dare  risk  doing 
it  myself,  through  fear  of  killing  the  horse." 

«  All  right  ?" 

"Goon." 

The  horse  made  a  hasty  move,  caused  by  the  coldness  of  the  wound  ;  but 
its  master  held  it  down  and  checked  its  struggles.  The  two  men  suffered  a 
moment  of  anxiety:  and  the  blood  did  not  issue.  At  last  a  black  drop  ap- 
peared in  the  wound,  then  a  second,  speedily  followed  by  a  long  jet  of  black 
and  foaming  blood. 

"  He  is  saved,"  the  stranger  said,  as  he  wiped  his  lancet  and  returned  it  to 
his  fob. 

"  I  will  repay  you  this,  on  the  word  of  Belhnmcur!"  the  owner  of  the 
horse  said  with  much  emotion.  "  You  have  rendered  me  one  of  those  ser- 
vices which  are  never  forgotten." 

And  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  he  held  out  his  hand  to  the  man  who  had 
so  providentially  crossed  his  path.  The  latter  warmly  returned  the  vigorous 
pressure.  Henceforth  all  was  arranged  between  them.  These  two  men 
who  a  few  moments  previously  were  ignorant  of  each  other's  existence,  were 
friends,  attached  by  one  of  those  services  which  in  American  countries  pos- 
sess an  immense  value. 

The  blood  gradually  loot  its  black  tinge  ;  it  became  vermillion,  and  flowed 
abundantly.  The  breathing  of  the  panting  steed  had  grown  easy  and  regu- 
lar. The  first  stranger  made  a  copious  bleeding,  and  when  he  considered 
the  hor.se  in  a  fair  way  of  recovery  he  stopped  the  effusion. 

"  And  now,"  he  said,  "what  do  you  propose  doing?" 

"  My  faith,  I  don't  know.  Your  help  has  been  so  useful  to  me  that  I 
should  like  to  follow  your  advice." 

"  Whore  were  you  going  when  this  accident  occurred  ?" 

"  To  the  Rancho." 

"  I  am  going  there  too'  We  are  only  a  few  yards  from  it.  You  will  get  up 
behind  me.  We  will  lead  >  our  horse,  a:1. d  start  when  you  please." 

"  1  ask  nothing  better.    'You  believe  that  my  horse  cannot  carry  me  ?" 

"  Perhaps  he  could  do  so,  for  he  is  a  noble  animal  ;  but  it  would  be  im- 
prudent, and  you  would  run  a  risk  of  killing  him.  It  would  bo  better,  be- 
lieve me,  to  act  as  I  suggested." 

"  Yes;  but  I  am  afraid—" 

«  What  of  ?"  the  other  sharply  interrupted  him.     "  Are  we   not  friends  ?" 

*•  That  is  true.     I  accept." 

The  horse  sprang  up  somewhat  actively,  and  the  two  men  who  had  met 
so  strangely,  started  ut  cure,  ir.ounted  <n  ont-  hoi-ve.  '1  wei^y  minutes  later 
they,  reached  the  first  buildings  of  the  Kane!.'.  At  the  entrance  of  the 
village  the  owner  of  tlu-  IMTM-  topped,  and  turning  to  his  companion,  said  : — 

"Where  will  you  p  t  «L- 

"  That  is  all  the  same  to  me ;  let  us  go  first  where  you  going." 

^  !i !"  the  ho:.-?oni:m  -aid,  scratching   his  head,  '•  the  fact   is,  I  am   going 
nowhere  in  particular." 
'  "  What  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  Oh  !  you  will  understand  me  in  two  words.    I  landed   to-day  at   Guay- 


22  THE    TIGER-SI. AYER. 

masj  the  Rancho.is  only  the  first  station  of  a  journey  I  meditate    in   the 

mi'!  which  will  probably  last  a  long-  time." 

.      By  the  moonlight,  a  ray  of  which    now  played  on^  the  stranger's  fac \  his 
i  attentively  regarded  his  noble  and  pensive  countenance,  on  which 
h:id  already  cut  deep  furrows. 

3  .  that,''   lie  at  lemvth  said,  "  any  lodging  will  suit  you  ?" 
••  A  night  is  soon  spent.     I  only  ask  a  shelter  for  hor.se  and  self." 
••  Well,  if  you  will  permit  me  to  act   in   my  turn  as  guide,  you   shall  have 
that  within  (en  minutes." 

peed." 

"I  do  not  promise  you  a  palace,  but  I  will  take  you  to  a pulqueria,  \yliero 
I  am  accustomed 'to  put  up  when  accident  brings   me   to   these  parts.     You 
will  find  the  society  rather  mixed,  but  what  would   you  have?  and3  as   you 
said  yourself,  a  night  is  soon  spent." 
"  In  Heaven's  name,  then,  proceed." 

Then  passing  his  arm  through  that  of  his  comrade,  the  new  guide  seized 
the  horse's  reins,  and  steered  to  a  house  standing  about  two-thirds  of  the 
way  down  the  street  where  they  were,  whose  badly  fitting  windows  gleamed 
in  the  night  like  the  stoke-holes  of  a  furnace,  while  cries,  laughter,  songs, 
and  the  shrill  sound  of  the  jarabRS,  indicated  that,  if  the  rest  of  the  pueblo 

\  !  iau,v:i  in  sleep,  there,  at  least,  people  were  awake. 
Tin-  two  strangers  stopped  before  .the  door  of  the  pot-house. 
<:  Have  you  quite  made  up  your  mind  ?"  the  lirst  said. 
••  Perfectly,"  the  other  answered. 

The  puide  then  rapped  furiorsly  at   the   worm-eaten  door.     At  length  a 
ho;u>e  \'.icc  shouted  from  inside,  while  the  greatest  silence    succeeded,  as  if 
by  enchantment,  the  noi.-e  that  hitherto  prevailed. 
"Qitien  vise?" 

"  Goite  tie  p/tz^  the  stranger  replied. 
"  Hum  !:'  the  voice  went  on,  "that  is  not  a  name.     What   sort  of  weather 

u  it  r 

"  One  for  all — all  for  one.  The  cormuel  is  strong  enough  to  blow  the 
horns  dif  the  oxen  on  the  top  of  the  Cierro  del  Ilerfuano.31 

The  doou  was  immediately  opened,  and  the  strangers  entered.  At  first 
they  could  distinguish  nothing  through  the  thick  and  smoky  atmosphere 
of  the  room,  and  walked  Imp-hazard.  The  companion  of  the  first  horse- 
man wa<  well  known  in  this  den;  for  the  master  of  the  house  and  several 
ulhf1  j  (•;•>(  ins  eagerly  collected  round  him. 

" Cabttllero.y' he  said,  pointing  to  the  person  who  followed  him,  "this 
sciior  is  my  friend,  and  1  must  request  your  kindness  for  him." 

';Ile  shall  be  treated  like  yourself,  Belimmeur,"  the  host  replied. 
'c  Your  h(.!->es  have  been  led  to  the  corral,  where  a  truss  of  alfalfa  has  been 
put  before  them.  As  for  yourselves,  the  house  belongs  to  you,  and  you  can 

•  of  it  as  3rou  please." 

During  this  exchange  of  compliments  the  strangers  had  contrived  to  find 
their  way  through  the  crowd.  They  crossed  the  room,  and  sat  down  in  a 
con K- r  before  a  table  on  which  the  host  himself  placed  pulque,  mezcal, 
chinguirito,  Catalonian  refino,  and  sherry. 

I'aramba,  Senor  Iluesped!"  the  man  whom  we  had  heard  called  frequent 
Iy  Belhumeur,  said  with  a  laugh,  "you  are  generous  to-day." 

Do  y<m  not  see  that  I  have  an  angelito  ?"  the  other  answered  gravely. 
.  your  son  Pedrito  ?" 

!.     I  am  trying  to  give  my  friends  a  cordial  welcome,  in  order  the 
to  feast  the  entrance  into  heaven  of  my  poor  boy,  who,  havinir  never 

•i  angi-1  by  the  side  of  God." 

That's  very  pro;>or  "  said  Belhumeur,  hobnobbing  with  the  rather  stoical 
!iu.     Ihe   latter  emptied  his  glass  of  refino  at  a  draught,  and  retired. 


THE    TPGER-SLAYER.  23 

• 

The  strangers,  by  this  time  accustomed  to  the  atmosphere  in  which  they 
found  themselves,  began  to  look  around  them.  The  room  of  the  pulqueria 
offered  them  a  most  singular  sight.  In  the  centre  some  ten  indvidnals,  with 
faces  enough  to  hfing  them,  covered  with  ra;;s.  and  armed  to  the  teeth,  were 
furiously  playing  at  monte.  It  was  a  strange  fact,  but  one  which  did  not  ap- 
pear l  >  aMonish  any  of  the  honorable  gamblers  that  a  lon;r  da^er  was  stuck 
in  the  table  to  the  right  of  the  banker,  and  two  pistols  lay  on  his  left.  A 
few  steps  further  on.  men  and  women,  more  than  half  intoxicated,  were  danc- 
ing and  singing,  with  lubricious  gestures  and  mad  shouts,  to  the  shrill  sound* 
of  two  or  three  vHiuelas  and  jarabes.  Tn  a  corner  of  the  room  thi:-tv  people 
were  assembled  round  a  table,  on  which  a  child,  four  years  of  age  at  the 
most,  was  seated  in  a  wicker  chair.  This  child  presided  over  the  m<  • 
He  was  dressed  in  his  best  clothes,  had  a  crown  of  Mowers  on  his  head,  and  a 
profusion  of  nosegays  was  piled  up  on  the  table  all  round  him. 

J>ut  alas  !  the  child's  brow  was  pale,  his  eyes  glassy,  his  .complexion  lead- 
en and  marked  with  violet  spots.  His  body  had  the  peculiar  stiffness  of  a 
corpse.  lie  was  dead.  lie  was  the  angelito,  whose  entrance  into  heaven  the 
worthy  pulquero  was  celebrating. 

Men,  women  and  children  were  drinking  and  laughing,  as  they  reminded 
the  poor  mother,  who  made  heroic  efforts  not  to  burst  into  tears, "of  the  pre- 
cocious intelligence,  goodness  and  prettiness  of  the  little  creature  she  had 

jUSt  lost. 

"  All  this  is  hideous,"  the  first  traveller  muttered,  with  signs  of  disgust. 

"  Is  it  not  so  ?"  the  other  assented.  "  Let  us  not  notice  it,  but  isolate  our- 
selves amid  these  scoundrels,  who  have  already  forgotten  our  presence,  and 
talk." 

"  Willingly,  but  unhappily  we  have  nothing  to  say  to  each  other." 

l:  Perhaps  we  have.  In  the  first  place,  we  might  let  each  other  know  who 
we  arc." 

;i  That  is  true." 

B  Von  agree  with  me  ?  Then  I  will  give  you  tlie  example  of  confidence 
and  frankness." 

"  Good.     After  that  my  turn  will  come." 

Belhumour  looked  round  at  the  company.  The  orgic  had  recommenced 
with  fresh  fury  ;  it  was  evident  that  no  one  troubled  himself  about  them. 
!  ted  his  elbows  on  the  table,  leant  over  to  his  commde.  and  began  : 

••As  you  already  know,  my  dear  mate,  my  name  is  Belhumeur.  lama 
Canadian;  that  is  to sav  almost  a  Frenchman.  Circumstances  too  long  to 
narrate  at  present,  but  which  I  tell  you  some  day,  brought  me,  when  a  lad 
into  f!ii<  country. 

"  Twenty  yean  of  my  life  have  passed  in  traversing  the  desert  in  every  di- 
rection:  there  i  or  a  by-path  which  1  do  not  know.  I  could, 
if  I  would,  live  q-u'etly  and  free  from  fare  with  a  dear  friend,  an  old  com- 
panion, who  has  retired  to  a  magnificent  hacienda  which  ho  possesses  a  few 
'.'  illo;  but  the  existence  of  a  hunter  has  charms  which 
only  those  who  have  lived  it  can  understand:  it  always  compels  them  t 
new  it  in  spite  of  \};>  \  am  still  a  ynuncr  m:m.  h:>rdly  fiv< 
years  of  ;v-e.  An  old  friend  of  mine,  an  In  lian  chief  of  the  name  of  K 
head,  proposed  to  me  to  accompany  him  on  an  excursion  he  wished  to  make 
in  Apacheria.  I  allowed  myself  to  be  tempted  ;  said  -nod-by  to  tin-  f 
love,  and  who  tried  in  vain  to  hold  me  back  ;  and  fi1"*-  i'r. "u  all  t\"<.  without 
re-ret  for  the  pa.^t,  happy  in  the  pre  ent,  and  careless  of  the  future,  I  went 
gaily  ahead,  bearing  with  me  those  inestimable  tivsisurcs  for  the  hunter,  a 
strong  heart,  a  fray  character,  excellent  arms,  and  a  horse  accustomed,  like 
his  master,  to  good  fortune  and  ill  ;  and  so  here  I  am.  And  now,  mate,  you 
know  me  as  well  as  if  we  had  been  friends  for  the  last  ten  years." 


.'I  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

• 

The  other  had  listened  attentively  to  this  story,  fixing  a  thoughtful 
clance  on  the  bold  adventurer,  who  sat  smiling  before  him.  He  gazed  with 
btereft  on  this  man,  with  the  loyal  face  and  sharply-cut  features,  whose 
countenance  exhaled  the  rude  and  noble  frankness  of  a  man  who  is  really 

6°WLtMi  Belhumeur  was  silent  he  remained  for  some  moments  without  re- 
ply in-,  doubtlessly  plunged  in  profound  and  earnest  reflections;  then,  offer- 
ing turn  across  the  table  a  white,  elegant,  and  delicate  hand,  he  replied  with 
treat  emotion,  and  in  the  best  French  ever  spoken  in  these  distant  regions  : 
"  J  thank  you,  Belhumeur.  for  the  confidence  you  have  placed  in  me.  My 
lii>tory  is  not  longer,  but  more  mournful  than  yours.  You  shall  have  it  in 
a  few  words/' 

•  i;ii  7"  the  Canadian  exclaimed,  vigorously  pressing  the  hand  offered  him. 
"  Do  you  happen  to  be  a  Frenchman  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  have  that  honor." 

"  By  Jove !  I  ought  to  have  suspected  it,"  he  burst  out  joyously. 
"  Only  to  think  that  for  an  hour  we  have  been  stupidly  talking  bad  Span- 
ish, instead  of  employing  our  own  tongue ;  for  I  come  from  Canada,  and  the 
Canadians  are  the  French  of  America,  are  they  not  ?" 

"  You  are  right." 

-  Well,  then,  it  is  agreed,  no  more  Spanish  between  us." 
"  No,  nothing  but  French." 

"  Bravo  !  Here's  j^our  health,  my  worthy  fellow  countryman !  And  now," 
he  added,  returning  his  glass  to  the  table  after  emptying  it,  "  let  us  have 
your  story.  1  am  listening." 

"  I  told  you  that  it  is  not  long." 

'•  No  matter;  go  ahead.  '  I  am  certain  'twill  interest  me  enormously." 

The  Frenchman  stifled  a  sigh.  , 

"I,  too,  have  lived  th«  liic  of  a  wood-ranger,"  he  said;  "  I,  too,  have  ex- 
ceed the  intoxicating  charms  of  that  feverish  existence,  full  of  moving 
incidents,  no  two  of  which  are  alike.  Far  from  the  country  where  we  are 
now,  I  have  traversed  vast  deserts,  immense  virgin  forests,  in  which  no  man 
prior  to  myself  had  left  the  imprint  of  his  footstep.  Like  you,  a  friend  ac- 
companied me  in  my  adventurous  travels,  sustaining  my  courage,  maintain- 
in-  my  gaiety  by  his  inexhaustible  humor  and  his  unbounded  courage. 
Alas  !  that  was  the  happiest  period  of  my  life. 

••  i  fell  in  love  with  a  woman  and  married  her.  So  soon  as  my  friend  saw 
me  rich  and  surrounded  by  a  family  he  left  me.  His  departure  was  my  first 
grief  from  which  I  never  recovered,  which  each  day  rendered  more  poignant 
and  which  now  tortures  me  like  a  remorse,  Alas  !  where  is  now  that  strong 
heart,  that  devoted  friend  who  ever  interposed  between  danger  and  myself, 
wlio  loved  me  like  a  brother,  and  for  whom  I  felt  a  s&i's  affection  ?  He  is 
probably  dead  !" 

In  uttering  the  last  words  the  Frenchman  let  his  head  sink  in  his  hands, 

and  yielded  to  a  Hood  of  bitter  thoughts,  which  rose  from  his  heart  with  ev- 

miniscence  he  recalled.     Belhumeur  looked   at  him   in   a  melancholy 

manner,  and  pressing  his  hand,  said  in  a  low  and  sympathising  voice,  "Cour- 

my  friend." 

the  Frenchman  continued,  "  that  was  what  he  always  said  to  me 
svhen.  prostrated  by  grief,  I  felt  hope  failing  me.  '  Courage,'  he  would  say  to 
me  m  his  rough  voice,  laying  his  hand  on  my  shoulders  ;  and  I  would  feel 


,  an     on   my  souers  ;  an          wou 

by  the  touch,  and  draw  myself  up  at  the  sound  of  that  cherished 
ly  to  recommence  the  struggle,  for  I  felt  myself  stronger.     Several 
<1  in  the  midst  of  a  felicity  which  nothing  came  to  trouble.     I  had 
adored,  charming  several  children  for  whom  I  formed  dreams   of 
the  future  ;  m  short.  I  wanted  for  nothing   save   my  poor   comrade,  about 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  25 

* 

whom  T  could  discover  nothing  from  the  moment,  he  left  me,  in  spite  of  my 
constant  inquiries.  Nov.-,  my  happiness  h;\s  faded  away  never  to  ri'turn.  My 
wife,  my  children  are  dead — cruelly  murdered  in  their  sleep  by  Indians,  who 
carried  my  hacienda  by  storm.  1  alone  remained  alive  amid  the  sniokin/  ru- 
ins of  that  abode  where  I  had  spent  so  many  happy  days.  All  I  loved  was 
eternally  buried  beneath  the  ashes.  My  heart  was  broken,  and  I  did  not 
wish  to  survive  all  that  was  dear  to  me  ;  but  a  friend,  the  only  one  t'lat  re- 
mained to  me,  saved  in".  He  carried  me  oh"  by  main  force  to  his  lH<>e,  for 
he  was  an  Indian.  By  his  care  and  devotion  he  recalled  me  to  life,  and 
brought  back  to  me,  if  not  the  hope  of  a  happiness  henceforth  impo -,-ible  for 
me,  at  least  the  eo-.rage  to  struggle  against  that  destiny  whose  blows  had  been 
so  rude.  He  died  only  a  few  months  back.  Before  closing  his  eye-  for  ever 
he  made  me  swear  to  do  all  lie  asked  of  me.  I  promised  him.  '  'Brother,1 
lie  said,  '  every  man  must  proceed  in  life  toward  a  certain  object.  So  soon 
as  1  am  dead,  go  in  search  of  that  friend  from  whom  you  have  so  Ion u;  been 
separated.  You  will  find  him,  I  feel  convinced.  lie  will  trace  your  line  of 
conduct.'  Two  hours  later  the  worthy  chief  died  in  my  arms.  So  soon  as 
his  body  was  committed  to  the  earth  I  set  out.  This  very  day,  a--  I  told 
you.  1  reached  (Juaymas.  My  intention  is  to  bury  myself  immediately  in  the 
wilderness  ;  for  if  1113*  poor  friend  be  still  alive,  I  can  only  find  him  there." 

There  was  a  lengthened  silence,  at  length  broken  by  Belhumenr. 

"  Hum  !  all  that  is  ve/y  sad,  mate,  I  must  allow,"  he  said,  tossing  his 
head.  "  You  are  rushing  upon  a  desperate  enterprise,  in  which  the  chances 
of  success  are  almost  null.  A  man .  is  a  grain  of  sand  lost  in  the  desert. 
Who  knows,  even  supposing  he  still  lives,  at  what  place  he  may  be  at  this 
moment  ;  and  if,  while  you  are  seeking  him  on  one  side, he  may  not  be  on 
the  other  ?  Still,  T  have  a  proposition  to  make  to  you,  which,  I  believe,  can 
only  prove  advantageous." 

"I  know  it.  my  friend,  before  you  tell  it  me.  I  thank  you,  and  accept 
it,"  the  Frenchman  replied  quickty. 

"  it  is  agreed  then.  We  start  together.  You  will  come  with  me  into 
ApacL' 

"  Y 

••  P,y  Jove!  T  am  in  luck.  I  have  hardly  separated  from  Loyal  Heart 
ere  Heaven  brings  me  together  with  a  friend  as  precious  as  he  is." 

';  Who  is  that  Loyal  Heart  you  mention?" 

"The  friend  with  whom  I  lived  so  long,  and  whom  you  shall  know  eome 
day.  ,  we  will  start  at  daybreak.'' 

••  Whenever  you  p! 

"  I  have  the  meeting  with  Eaglc-liead  tw.>  day-' journey  from  here.  I  am 
much  mistaken,  or  he  is  waiting  for  me  by  this  time." 

"  What  -i  ing  to    do  in  Apacheria  T' 

"  T  do  not  know.  Kagle-head  asked  me  to  accompany  him,  and  I  am  go- 
ing.  [tie  my]  to  ask  my  friends  more  of  their  secrets  than  they 

are  willinvr  to  t»  11  me.     In  that  way  we  are  more  free." 

-.ccllent  reasoning,  my  d'-ar  Helhumeur;  but,  as  we   shall  be   together 
for  a  long  time,  I  hope,  at  h-a-^t — " 

"L 

"  It  is  right,"  the  Frenchman  continued,  "  that  youshould  know  my  name, 
which  f  have  hitherto  forgotten  to  tell  you." 

"  It  is  right,.'5  the  Frer.ehman  continued,  "that  you  should  know  my 
name,  which  1  have  hitherto  forgotton  to  tell  \ 

"  That  need  not  trouble  you  ;  for  I  could  easily  give  you  if  you  had  reasons 
for  preserving  your  incognito." 

"None  at  all :   my  name  is  Count  Louis  de  Prcbois  Crance." 

Belhumeur  rose  as  if  moved  by  a  spring,  took  off  his  fur  cap,  and  bowing 
before  his  new  friend,  said — 


26 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 


«  Pardon  me,  sir  count,  for  the  free  manner  in  which  I  have  addressed 
you.  IIu<l  I  kno\vn  in  whose  company  I  had  the  honor  of  being,  I  should 
certainly  not  have  taken  so  gre.it  a  liberty." 

»  BelbnnxMjr,  Belhumeur,"  the  count  said  with  a  mournful  smile,  and 
sci/ini?  his  hand  quickly,  "is  our  friendship  to  commence  in  that  way? 
There  are  here  only  two  men  ready  to  share  the  same  life,  run  the  same 
dangers,  and  confront  the  same  foes.  Let  us  leave  to  the  foolish  inhabitants 
of  cities  those  vain  distinctions  which  possess  no  significance  for  us  ;  let  us 
be  frankly  and  loyally  brothers.  I  only- wish  to  be  to  you  Louis,  your  good 
comrade,  your  devoted  friend,  in  the  same  way  as  you  are  to  ine  only  Bel- 
humeur,  the  rough  wood-ranger." 

The  Canadian's  face  shone  with  pleasure  at  these  words. 

"Well  spoken,"  he  said  gaily,  "well  spoken,  on  my  soul  !  I  am  but  an 
Ignorant  hunter;  and,  by  my  faith,  why  should  I  conceal  it  ?  What  you 
bave  just  said  to  me  has  gone  straight  to  my  heart.  I  am  yours,  Louis,  for 
life  and  death  ;  and  I  hope  to  prove  to  you  soon,  comrade,  that  I  have  a 
certain  value." 

"  I  am  convinced  of  it;  but  we  understand  each  other  now,  do  we  not  ?" 

"By  Jove !" 

At  this  moment  there  was  such  a  tremendous  disturbance  in  the  street, 
that  it  drowned  that  in  the  room.  As  always  happens  under  such  circum- 
stances, the  adventurers  assembled  in  the  pulqueria  were  silent  of  a  com- 
mon accord,  in  order  to  listen.  Shouts,  the  clashing  of  sabres,  the  stamping 
of  hoi-M-s,  drowned  at  intervals  by  the  discharge  of  lire  arms,  could  be  clear- 
ly di.stingui.shed. 

"  Carai !"  Belhumeur  exclaimed,  "  there's  lighting  going  on  in  the 
street." 

"  I  am  afraid  so,"  the  pulquero  laconically  answered,  who  was  more  than 
half  drunk,  as  he  swallowed  a  glass  of  refino. 

Suddenly  from  sabre  hilts  and  pistol  butts  resounded  vigorously  on  the 
badly-joined  plank  of  the  door,  and  a  powerful  voice  shouted  angrily: 

"  Open,  in  the  devil's  name,  or  I'll  smash  in  your  miserable  door  !" 


CHAPTER    IV. 

COUNT      MAXIM  E      GAETAN      DE       LHORAII,  LES. 

BEFORE  explaining  to  the  reader  the  cause  of  the  infernal  noise  which 
sudenly  rose  to  disturb  the  tranquility  of  the  people  assembled  in  the  pul- 
queria, we  are  obliged  to  go  back  a  little  distance. 

About  three  years  before  the  period  in  which  our  story  opens,  on  a  cold 
and  rainy  December  night,  eight  men,  whose  costumes  and  manners  showed 
them  to  belong  to  the  highest  Parisian  society,  were  assembled  iu  an  elegant 
private  room  of  the  Cafe  Anglais. 

The  nitiht  was  far  advanced  ;  the  wax  candles,  two-thirds  consumed,  only 
spread  a  mournful  light;  the  rain  lashed  the  windows,  and  the  wind  howled 
lugubriously.  The  guests,  seated  round  the  table  arid  the  relics  of  a  splen- 

id  Mipp.  r.  M  cmed,  in  spite  of  themselves,    to  have   been    infected   by   the 
doomy  melancholy    that   brooded   over   nature,  and,   lying    Uek  on   their 
;ept,  while  others,  lost   in  thought,  pud  no   attention  to   what 
was  going  on  around  them. 

on  the  mantle-piece  slowly  struck  three*,  and  the  last  sound  had 
MMCely  died  a\vay  ere  the  repeated  crackirig  cf  a  rcUi lion's  whip  could  be 
heard  beneatfci  the  windows  of  the  room. 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  27 

The  <1  >  >;•  »;> •  !.•  1  ;r.i  1  ;i  waiter  came  in. 

"  The  poa-chai.se  the  Count  de  Lhorailles  ordered  is  waiting,"  lie  said. 

"Thanks,"  one  of  the  guests  said,  dismissing  one  of  the  waiters  by  a  sign. 

The  latter  went  o-it,  and  closed  the  door  after  him.  The  tew  words  he 
had  u Here  1  had  broken  the  charm  which  had  enchanted  the  gi:e.-ts ;  all  sat 
up,  jus  if  aroused  from  sleep  suddenly  ;  and  turning  to  a  yo.mg  man  of 
thirty,  they  said  ;  — 

"  It  is  really  true  that  you  arc  going  ?" 

"  1  am,''  he  answered,  with  a  nod  of  affirmation. 

"  Where  to,  though  ?  People  do  not  usually  part  in  this  mysterious  way," 
one  of  the  guests  continued. 

The  uentkiiian  to  whom  the  remark  was  addressed  smiled  sorrowfully. 

The  Count  de  Lhoir.illcs  AMIS  a  l.u.<!.-i  n:e  man,  with  c.\prt> .-ivc  feat  >•  res. 
CHCT..I  .('•(•  g  .-.;  <c.  :md  disdainful  lip;  he  belonged  to  the  most  ancient  nobil- 
ity,  and  his  reputation  AVJIS  perfectly  established  among  the  "lions"  of  the 
day.  lit  n  se,  and  looking  round  the  circle,  said  ; 

"  Gentlemen,  1  can  perfectly  well  understand  that  my  conduct  appears  to 
you  strange.  You  have  a  right  to  Jin  explanation  from,  and  I  am  mo>t  de- 
sirous to  give  it  to  you.  It  was,  indeed,  for  that  purpose  that  T  invited 
you  to  tiie  i;i.-i:  Mipper  \ve  shall  enjoy  together.  The  horr  for  my  departure 
baa  struck ;  the  chaise  is  waiting.  To-morrow  I  shall  be  far  from  Paris, 
and  within  a  week  I  shall  have  left  France  never  to  return.  Listen  to  mr.'} 

The  gue.sts  made  a  marked  movement  as  they  gaxed  on  the  count. 

"Do  not  be  impatient,  gentlemen,"  he  said  ;  "the  story  I  have  to  tell  you 
is  not  long,  for  it.  is  my  own.  In  two  words,  here  it  is  :  I  am  completely 
ruined.  1  have  only  a  small  sum  of  money  left,  on  which  I  should  starve  in 
Paris,  and  end  in  a  month  by  blowing  out  my  brains — a  gloomy  perspective 
which  pos>cs.»es  no  attractions  for  me,  [  assure  you.  On  the  other  hand.  I 
have  such  a  fatal  skill  with  arms,  that,  wthout  any  fault  of  my  own,  1  enjoy 
a  reputation  as  a  duellist,  which  weighs  on  me  fearfully,  especially  since  my 
deplorable  jilfiir  with  that  poor  Viscount  de  Morsens,  whom  I  was  obliged  to 
kill  against  my  will,  in  order  to  close  his  mouth  and  put  a  stop  to  his  calum- 
nies. In  iiiid,  for  the  reasons  L  have  had  the  honor  of  impart  ing  to  you,  and 
an  infinity  of  others  it  is  needless  for  you  to  know,  and  which  I  am  convinced 
would  inicre>t  you  very  slightly,  France  has  become  odious  to  me  to  Mich 
a  degree  that  I  am  most  anxious  to  quit  it.  So  now  a  parting  glass  of  cham- 
pagne, and  go;>d-by  to  all." 

*•  A  moment,"  remarked  the  guest  Avho  had  already  spoken.  "  You  have 
not  told  us,  count,  to  what  country  you  intend  to  proceed." 

"  C.m't  you  guess  ?  To  America.  I  am  allowed  to  possess  a  certain 
amount  of  and  intelligence,  and  therefore  am  going  to  a  country 

where,  u   I  may  believe  all  I  hear,  those  two  qualities  are  su"'. .-5  ul  to 
the    fortune  of  their  ..     Have    you  any  more    questions  i     ;.  '.  mr. 

baron  ?"  he  added,  turning  to  his  questioner. 

Tue  latter,  ere    replying,  remained  for  some   moments    plunged  in  si  ; 
rrllections  ;  at    length"  he    raised   his  head,  and  fixed   a  cold  and  searching 
glance  on  the  count. 

"  So,  you  really  mean  to  go,  friend  ?''  he  said  quite  seriously.  "  You  swear 
it  on  your  honor  ?:' 

"  Yes,  on  my  honor." 

"  Ami  you  are  really  resolved  to  make  for  yourself,  in  America,  a  position 
at  the  lea-a  cq  al  to  that  you  held  here  ?'' 

"  Yes,"  he  sai  1  sharply,  a  by  all  means  pos>:' 

"That  isuoo.l.  In  your  turn  listen  to  me,  count,  and  if  you  will  profit  by 
what  1  am  a!«  mt  t->  r.-ve.il  to  yrt,  you  may  perhaps  l»y  the  help  of  Heaven, 
succeed  in  accomplishing  the  wild  projects  you  luive  formed." 


28  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

All  the  guests  drew  round  curiously  ;  the  count  himself  felt  interested 

te  of  himself.  _ 

The-  Bai-on  do  Spurt/hi-im  was  a  man  of  about  five-and-forty.     His  bronzed 
marked  features,  and  the  strange  expression  of  his   eye  gave 
him  a  |  rculiar  aspect,  which  escaped  the  notice  of  the  vulgar  herd,  and  caug- 
t.tj  i,:.  ,;.:!  as  a  really  remarkable  man  by  all  intelligent  persons. 

The  only  thing  known  about  the  baron  was  his  colossal  fortune,  which  he 
rovaily.     As  for  his  antecedents,  every  one   was  ignorant  of  them,  al- 
ii he  was  received  in  the  first  society,     It  was  merely  remarked  vague- 
ly thftt  he  had  been  a  great  traveller,  and  had  resided  for  several   years  in 
America  ;  but  nothing  was  more   uncertain   than  these   rupiors,  and  they 
would  not  have  been  sufficient  to  open   the   salmis  of  the  Austrian  ambassa- 
dor, without  his  knowledge,  served  as  his  guarantee  most  warmly  in  several 
delicate  circumstances. 

The  baron  was  more  intimately  connected  with  the  count  than   with  his 
other  companions.    He  seemed  to  feel  a  certain  degree  of  interest  in  him  ;  _ 
ind  several  times,  guessing  his  friend's  embarrassed  circumstances,  he  had' 
delicate!  v  oilc-ivd  him  his  assistance.     The  Count  de   Lhorai-lles,  though  too 
,    these-   offers,  felt   equally  grateful  to  the  baron,  and  had  al- 
lowed him  to  assume  a  certain  influence  over  him,  without  suspecting  it. 

,.e:ik.  but  bo  brief,  my  dear  baron,"  the   count  said.     "  You  know  that 

I  waiting  for  me." 

Without  replying,  the  baron  rang  the  bell.     The  waiter  came  in. 
••  Dismiss  the  postilion,  and  tell  him  to  return  at  five   o'clock.     You  can 
go." 

waiter  bowed  and  went  out. 

The  count,  more  and  more  amazed  at  his  friend's  strange  conduct,  did  not 
make  the  least  observation.    However,  he  poured  out  a  glass  of  champagne, 
.  1  at  a  draught,  crossed  his  arms,  leant   back  in  his   chair, 
and  v, 

••  And  now,  gentlemen,"  the  baron  said  in  his  sarcastic  and  incisive  voice, 
:r  iVi.-M  1  De  Lhorailles  has  told  us   his  history,  and  we   are    becoming 
confidential,  why  should  I  not  tell  you  mine  ?     The  weather  is  fearful ;  it  is 
raining  torrents.     Here  we   are,  comfortably  tiled  in :  we   have   champagne 
ami  regalias — two   excellent  things  when  not  abused.     What  Imve    we    bet- 
do?     '  Nothing,'  I  hear  you  say.     Listen   to   me,  then,  for    I   believe 
what  1  have  to  tell  you  will   interest  you  the   more,  because   some    among 
you  will  not  be  vexed  to  know  the  whole  truth  about  me." 

The  majority  of  the  guests  burst  into  a  laugh   at  this  remark.     When 
their  hilarity  was  calmed  the  baron  began: 

"  As  for  the  first  part  of  my  story,  I  shall  imitate  the  count's   brevity. 
In  the  present  age  gentlemen  find    themselves  so  naturally  beyond   the  pale 
of  the  law  through  the  prejudices  of  blood  and  education,  that  they  all  are 
to  |i;^->  through  a  rough  apprenticeship  to   life,  by  devouring  in   a  few 
they  know  not  how,  the  paternal  fortune.     This  happened  to  me,  gen- 
i  >  yoinv.-lves.     My  ancestors  in  the  middle  ages  were,  to  a  certain 
it,  freebooters.     True  blood  always  shows  itself.     When  my  last  re- 
sources were  nearly  exhausted,  my  instincts  were  aroused,  and  my  eyes  fixed 
on  America.     In  less  than  ten  years  I  amassed   there   the   colossal    fortune 
which  1  now  have  the  disinguished  honor,  not  of  dissipating — the  lesson  was 
.'le,  and  I  profited   by  it;  but  of  spending  in  your  honorable  company, 
White  <•:::•;. ful  to  keep  my  capital  intact." 

the   count  exclaimed  impatiently,  "how  did  you  amass  this   colos- 

u  yourself  term  it?" 

t  a  million  and  a  half,"  the  baron  coolly  remarked. 
A  shudder  of  covetousness  ran  through  the  whole  party. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  29 

"  A  colossal  fortune  indeed,"  the  count  continued ;  t;  but,  I  repeat,  Low 
did  you  acquire  it  ?" 

"  If  I  diit  not  intend  to  reveal  it  to  you,  my  dear  fellow,  you  may  be  suro 
I  would  not  have  abused  your  patience  by  making  you  listen  to  tlie  triviali- 
ties vou  have  just  heard." 

"  We  are  listening,"  the  guests  shouted. 

Tlie  baron  coolly  looked  at  them  all. 

'•  In  the  lirst  place  let  us  drink  a  glass  of  champagne  to  our  friend's  suc- 
cess," he  said  in  a  sarcastic  tone. 

The  glasses  were  filled  and  emptied  again  in  a  twinkling,  s.->  great  was 
the  curiosity  of  the  auditors.  After  patting  down  his  gla->s  before  him 
tlu  baron  lighted  a  regalia,  and,  turning  to  the  c;mnt,  said  to  him  : 

v  1  am  now  addressing  myself  more  particulraly  to  you,  my  friend.  You 
ure  young,  enterprising,  gifted  with  an  iron  constitution  and  an  energetic 
will;  1  am  convinced,  that  if  death  does  not  thwart  your  plans,  you  will 
succeed,  whatever  may  be  the  enterprise  you  undertake,  or  tlie  objects  you 
propose  to  yourself,  "in  the  life  you  are  about  to  begin,  the  principal  • 
oT  .-u  -cess,  i-may  say  almost  the  only  one  i.s  a  tho&ngh  knowledge  of  the 
ground  on  which  you  are  about  to  manoeuvre,  and  the  society  you  pr  pose 
entering.  If,  on  my  entrance  upon  that  adventurous  life,  I  had  possessed 
the  good  fortune  of  meeting  a  friend  willing  to  initiate  rne  into  the  myste- 
rie-.  <n  mv  new  existence,  my  fortune  would  have  been  made  live  years 
p,  What  no  one  did  for  me  I  a-.u  willi:i;  to  d>>  for  you.  Perhaps,  at  a 
later  date  you  will  be  grateful  for  the  information  I  have  given  you,  and 
which  will  serve  as  your  guide  in  the  inextricable  maze  you  are  abo'.it  to 
enter.  In  the  first  place,  lay  down  this  principle  :  the  people  among  whom 
you  are  about  going  to  live  are  your  natural  enemies.  All  means  must  ap- 
pear to  you  good  to  emerge  from  the  battle  a  victor.  Lay  on  one  side  your 
notions  of  honor  and  delicacy.  In  America  they  are  vain  words,  useless 
even  to  make  dupes,  from  the  very  simple  reason  that  no  one  believes  h)  t  licui. 
The  sole  deity  of  America  i.s  gold.  To  acquire  gold  the  American  is  capable 
of  everything ;  but  not  as  in  old  Europe,  under  the  cloak  of  honesty,  and  by 
roundabout  process,  but  frankly,  openly,  without  shame,  and  without  ivmor.se. 
This  laid  down,  your  line  of  conduct  is  ready  traced.  There  is  no  project, 
however  extravagant  it  may  appear,  which  in  that  country  does  not.  oiler 
chances  of  success  ;  for  the  means  of  execution  are  immen.-e,  and  almost 
impossible  of  control.  The  American  is  the  man  who  has  be.-.t  c-mipreli  :id- 
10  strength  of  association :  his  schemes  are  carried  mil.  On  »rriving 
there  alone,  without  friends  or  Acquaintances,  however  intelligent  and  deter- 
mined you  may  be,  you  will  be  lost,  because  you  iind  your.-eif  aioiie  in  the 
face  of  "all." 

.'.iat  is  true,"  the  count  muttered  with  conviction. 

aienee  !"  the  baron  replied  with  a  smile.  l'  Do  you  think  I  intend  to 
send  you  into  action  without  acuinUB?  No,  no,  I  will  give  you  one,  ;r.i  1 
magnificently  tempered,  too,  1  a-."ii;v  yo:i." 

AH  those  piv-  i  with    ama/.ement   on  this  man,  who    h 

enormously  in  their  esteem,  in  a  few  moments.  The  baron  I- '.  ;nc  1  not  to 
perceive  the  impression  lie  produced,  and  in  a  minute  or  so  he  continued,  lay- 
ing a  stress  on  every  word,  a.s  if  wishful  to  engrave  it  more  deeply  on  the 
count's*memory  : 

'•  Kemcmber  what  I  am  about  to  tell  you  ;  it  is  of  the  utmost  importance 
for  you  not  to  forget  a  word,  my  friend  ;  from  that  positively  depends  the 
success  ol  your  trip  to  the  New  World." 

'•Speak — I  am  not  losing  a  syllable !"  the  count  interrupted  him  with  » 
species  of  febrile  impatience, 

"  When  stranger.-,  began  to  ilock  to  America,  a  company  of  bold  fellows  wa 


30  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 


A]|   nationaty,  as       e)'  ssue        o 
006  government,  that  which  they  themselves  ins 
lost  in  the  middle  of  the  ocean— 
{-,„-  ,,  ,-atits   basis,  and   it  only  admitt 


fnnm-'l  without    faith  or  law.   anrl  without  pity  as  without  weakness,  who, 
A]|   nationality,  as   the)'  issued   from   every  people,  on  ly  recognised 
themselves  instituted  on  Tortoise    Island, 
a  monstro-.is     eovemment  ; 

,  admitted   of  right    Icing   might 

i  companions,  attached  to  each   other  by  a   Draconian  charter,  as- 
'  of  Brethren  of  the  Coast,  and  were  divided  into  two   elas- 
FC>—  the  Buccaneers  and  the  Filibusters. 

«  TJie  buccaneers,  wandering  through   the  primeval  forests,  hunted  oxen, 
while  tin-  fSliliii-ti-ivs  scoured  the  seas,  attacking  every  flag,  plundering  every 
I  under  the    pretext  of  making   war   on  the   Spaniards,  but  in  reality 
Rtrippiiir  th«-  ri'-h  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor  —  the  only  -means  they  discovered 
itore  t!u-  bnlance  between  the  two  classes.     The  Brethren  of  the  Coast, 
continually  rerruiti-d  from  all  the  rogues  of  the  new  world,  became  powerful 
_  so  |  ;  ...deed,  that  the  Spaniards  trembled  for  their  possessions,  and 

a  glorious  King  of  France  did  not  disdain  to  treat  with  them,  and  send  an 
amW-  :!'<;•  to  them.  At  last,  through  the  very  force  of  circumstances,  .like 
all  powers  whioh  are  the  offspring  of  anarchy,  and  consequently  possess  no 
inh<Mv.<;  v'r  ility,  when  the  maritime  nations  recognized  their  own  strength, 
the  Brethren  of  the  Coast  grew  gradually  weaker,  and  finally  -disappeared 
entires-.  I'y  forcing  them  into  obscurity,  it  was  supposed  that  they  were 
not  merely  conquered,  but  annihilated  ;  but  it  was  not  so,  as  you  shall  now 
Bee.  1  a.-k  your  pardon  for  this  long  and  tedious  prologue,  but  it  \vas  indis- 
p<  -n-able,  so  that  you  should  better  comprehend  the  rest  I  have  to  explain  to 

"  It  is  nearly  half-past  four,"  observed  the  count  ;  "  we  have  not  more  than 
forty  minutes  h-i't  us." 

"  That,  period,  though  FO  short,  will  be  sufficient,"  the  baron  answered.  "  1 
resume  my  narrative.  The  Brethren  of  the  Coast  were  not  destroyed,  but 
tran  -formed.  They  yielded  with  extraordinary  cleverness  to  the  exigencies 
of  that  progress  which  threatened  to  outstrip  them  :  they  had  changed  their 
skin  —  fiMia  timers  they  had  become  foxes.  The  Brethren  of  the  Coast  were 
converted  into  Daupwyetrt*  Instead  of  boarding  the  enemies'  ships,  sword 
and  luitchot  inland,  as  they  formerly  did,  they  became  insignificant,  and 
dug  iniiK'-.  At  the  present  day  the  Dauph'yeers  are  the  masters  of  the  New 
"World  ;  tin1}'  are  nowhere  and  everywhere,  but  they  reign  ;  their  influence 
is  felt  in  ii'l  ranks  of  society  ;  they  are  found  on  every  rung  of  the  ladder, 
but  are  ne\  <  r  .^.-cn.  They  helped  to  detach  the  United  States  from  England  ; 
Peru.  C,.i!i  and  Mexico,  from  Spain  ;  California  and  Texas  from  Mexico  ;  and 
who  knows  whnt  mighty  uprising  they  are  even  now  meditating.  Their 
power  is  immense,  the  more  so  because  it  is  secret,  ignored  and  almost  de- 
nied, which  explains  their  strength.  For  a  secret  society  to  be  denied  exis- 


ival  power.  There  is  not  a  revolution  in  America  in  which  the  in- 
fluence of  the  Dauph'yeers  does  not  step  valiantly  forward,  either  to  insure 
its  triumph  or  to  crush  it.  They  can  do  everything  —  they  are  everything  : 
with*  ->:den  circle  nothing  is  possible.  Such  have  the  Brethren  of 

the   Coast    become,   in   less  than   two   centuries,  by  the  force  of  progress  ! 
y  are  the  axis  round  which  the  New  World  revolves,  though  it  little  sus- 
pects it." 

Theiv^yas  a  lengthened  silence  :  each  was  reflecting  on  what  he  had  just 

heard.     Tlio  l.nron  himself  had  buried  his  face  in  his   hands,  and  was  lost  in 

that  world  of  ideas  which  he   had  evoked,  and  which  now  assailed  him  in  a 

s  with  sensations  of  mingled  pain  and  bitterness.     The  distant  sound  of  a 

•Ming  vehicle  recalled  the  count  to  the  gravity  of  the  situation. 

Hera  i*  my  chaise,"  he  said.     «  I  am  about  to  set  out.  and  1  know  noth 

ing." 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  31 

"  Patience  !"  the  baron  replied.  i;  TuLie  have  of  your  friends,  and  wo 
will  start." 

Yielding,  in  spite  of  himself,  to  the  influence  of  this  singular  man,  the 
count  ob'jyed,  without  dreaming  of  ofLring  t!ie  slightest  opposition.  Ho 
rose,  embraced  each  of  his  old  Mends,  exchanged  with  them  hearty  hand- 
shakings, received  their  auguries  of  success,  and  left  the  room,  followed  by 
the  baron. 

The  post-chaise  was  waiting  in  front  of  the  house.  The  young  men  haO 
opened  the  windows,  and  were  waving  fresh  adietix  to  thei'1  friend.  Tlu 
count  turned  a  long  look  on  the  Boulevard.  The  rjight  was  gloomy,  thougi 
the  rain  no  longer  fell  ;  the  sky  was  black  ;  and  the  gas-jets  glinted  feebl) 
in  the  distance  like  stars  lost  in  a  fog. 

'•  Farewell,"  he  said  in  a  stifled  voice,  "farewell  !  Who  knows  whether  1 
shall  ever  return  ?" 

"  Courage  !"  a  stern  voice  whispered  in  his  ear. 

The  young  man  shuddered  :  the  baron  was  at  his  side. 

"  Come,  my  friend,"  he  said,  as  he  helped  him  to  enter  the  carriage,  "  I 
will  accom parry  you  to  the  barrier." 

The  count  got  in  and  fell  back  on  a  cushion. 

t;  The  Normandy  road,"  the  baron  shouted  to  the  postilion,  as  he  shut  tho 
door. 

The  driver  cracked  his  whip,  and  the  chaise  started  at  a  gallop. 

"  Good- by,  good -by  !"  the  young  men  loudly  shouted  as  they  leant  out 
of  the  windows  of  the  Cafe  Anglais. 

For  a  long  time  the  two  remained  silent.  At  length  the  baron  took  tho 
word. 

'•  Gaetan  1"  he  said. 

"  What  would  you  ?"  the  latter  replied. 

•:1  have  not  yet  finished  my  narrative." 

"  It  is  true,''  he  muttered  distractedly. 

-  l*n  you  not  wish  me  to  end  it  ?" 

••  >}ieak,  my  friend." 

c;  lu  what  a  tone  you  say  that,  my  good  fellow  !  Yourmhjd  is  wandering 
in  imaginary  .-pace  ;  you  are  doubtlessly  dreaming  of  those  you  are  leaving. 

••A,  .  murmured  the  count  with  a  sigh,  "  I  am  alone  in  the  world. 
What  have  I  to  regret  ?  I  possess  neither  friends  nor  relations." 

u  Ungratef.il  man  !"  the  baron  said  in  a  reproachful  tone. 

"  H  i'cirdou  me,  my  dear  fellow;  I  did  not   think  of  what  I  was 

•aymg." 

I  pardon  you,  but  on  condition  that  you  listen  to  me." 

"  1  promise  it." 

iv  friend,  il  you  desire  Micros,  the  friendship  and  protection  of  those 
Dauph'yeers  1  mentioned  mv  in  i!  -j. disable  for  you." 

"How  C.MI  I  obtain  them — 1,  a  wretched  stranger  ?  How  I  tremble  on 
thinking  of  the  country  in  which  I  dreamed  of  creating  such  a  glorious  fu- 
ture !  Ti.e  veil  that  covered  my  eyes  is  fallen.  I  see  tho  extravagance  of 
my  projects,  and  all  hope  abandons  me." 

"  Already  ?"  exclaimed  the  hiroii  .-ternly.  "  Child  without  energy,  to 
abandon  a  content  even  before  having  engaged  in  it  !  man  without  strength 
and  courage  !  I  will  give  you  the  means,  if  you  like,  of  obtaining  the  friend- 
ship and  protection  H>  \  for  you." 

"You  !"  the  count  said,  quivering  with  excitement. 

"  Yes,  I  !  I/o  you  fanry  I  have  been  amusing  myself  with  torturing  your 
mind  for  the  last  two  hours,  like  the  jaguar  plays  with  the  lamb,  for  the  rnero 
pleasure  of  deriding  you?  X<>,  Gactim.  If  you  had  that  thought,  you 
were  wrong,  for  I  am  fond  of  you.  When  1  learned  your  .scheme  1  applaud- 


Tin-:  TlftE  R-HL  A  v  ri- 
cd.  from  flu-  bottom  of  my  heart,  that  re.M:>!imoi-.  which  restored  you  to  yptfr 
r  place  in  inv  mind.     "When  you  this  night  frankly  avowed  to  us  your 
ne«J  your  plans,  I   found   my:-elf  again  in  you  ;  my  heart 
;  for  a  moment  I  was  happy  :  and  then  I  vowed  to  open  to   you  that 
path  M>   \vide,  BO  t'l-cat,  and  so  noble,  that  if  you  do  not  succeed,  it  will  be 

Be  '/on  do  not  desire  to  do  so." 

l-(»li  !"  the  count  said  energetically,  "  I  may  succumb  in  the  contest  which 
S  this  day  between  myself  and  humanity  at  large,  but  fear  nothing,  my 
friend  ;  I  will  fell  nobly  like  a  man  of  courage." 

-  !  am  persuaded  of  it,  my  friend.  I  have  only  a  few  more  words  to  say 
to  you.  I,  too,  was  a  Bauph'yeer,  and  am  so  still.  Thanks  to  my  brethren, 
[  gained  the  fortune  I  now  possess.  Take  this  portfolio:  put  round  your 
neck  this  chain,  from  which  a  medallion  hangs;  then,  when  you  are  alone, 
read  these  instructions  contained  in  the  portfolio,  and  act  as  they  prescribe. 
If  you  follow  them  point  for  point,  I  guarantee  your  success.  That  is  the 
•••I'd  for  you,  and  which  I  would  not  give  you  till  we  were 
alone/'  « 

"  O  heavens !"  the  count  said  with  effusion. 

"  Here  we  are  at  the  barrier,"  the  baron  remarked,  as  he  stopped  the  car- 
.     "  It  is  time  for  us  to  separate.     Farewell,  my  friend  !     Courage   and 
will!     Embrace  me.    Above  .all,  remember  the  portfolio  and  the  me- 
•ialion.V 

The  two  men  remained  for  a  long  time  in  each  other's  arms.  At  length 
iho  b;  ron  freed  himself  by  a  vigorous  effort,  opened  the  door,  and  leaped  out 
>n  the  pavement. 

'•  Farewell !"  he  cried  for  the  last  time ;  "  farewell,  Gaetan,  ^remember  me." 
The  post-chaise  was  bowling  along  the  high   road   at  full  speed.     Strange 
to  say,  both  men  muttered  the  same   word,  shaking   heads  with  discourage- 
ment, when  they  found  themselves- alone — one  walking  at   full  speed   alo'ng 
the  footpath,  the  other  buried  in  the  cushions. 
That  word  was  "  Perhaps !" 

The  reason  was  that,  despite  all  their  efforts  to  deceive  each  other,  neither 
of  them  hoped. 


i  C  II  AFTER    V. 

THE    DAUPH'YEERS. 

Now  let  us  quit  the  old   world,  and,  taking  an  immense  stride,  transport 
ourselves  to  the  new  one  at  a  single  leap. 

'1  here  is  in  America  a  city  which  possibly  cannot  be  compared  to  any  other 
in  1 1  (-  whole  world.     That  city  is  Valparaiso ! 

Valparaiso  J     The  word  resounds  in  the   enchanted   ear  like  the  gentle 
soft  notes  of  a  love  song. 

ettish,  smiling,  and  mad  city,  softly  reclining  like  a  careless  Creole, 

n  bay,  at  the  foot  of  three  majestic  mountains,  lazily  bathing 

.d  dainty  feet  in  the  azure  waves   of  the  Pacific,  and  veiling  her 

row  in  the  storm-laden  clouds  which  escape  from  Cape  Horn,  and 

ith  a  sinister  sound  round  the  peaks  of  the  Cordilleras,  to  form  a  splendid 

em. 

'It  on  the  Chilian  coast,  this  strange   city  belongs,  in   fact,  to 
1  recognises  no  nationality  :  or  to  speak  more  correctly,  it  ad 

its  bosom. 

At  ' tue  adventurers  of  every  clime  have  given  each  other  the 


THE    TIGER-SLAY  Ell.  33 

meeting.     All  tongues  are  spoken  there,  every  brail  !<•  is  carried  on. 

The  population  is  the  quaintest  amalgam  of  the  most  eCQCentric penonaiitietL 

who  have  rushed  from  the.  most  remote   parts «;!'  ti:  1 1- fs  of  the  old 

world,  to  attack  fortune  in  this  city,  the    advance;!  sentinel  of  Traus-atlantic 
civilisation,  and  whose  occult   influence   governs   the  J;  .,,1  re- 

public. 

Valparaiso,  like  nearly  all  the  commercial  (v  •  >.  is   a 

pile  of  shapeless  dens  and  magnific'  .  ;.nd    hang- 

ing in  abrupt  clusters  on  the  abrupt  fi.;::k>  >••{'  tl 

At  the  period  the  event   occurred  •  ,  t  he 

stivets  were  narrow,  dirty,  deprived  of  air  am  i  paving,  bei    .per- 

fectly ignored,  rendered  them  perfect  morasses,  m   irl         . 
to  the  knee  when  the  winters  rains  had    loo- 
the  u.-e  ot  a  hor.se  indispensable,  e\<n  lor  : 

Deleterious  exhalations  ir.ces>:mfly  escaped  l'r«  m  I  boles,   hrighf- 

cned  by  the  filth    of  every  description  which  the    d  :.ing  o'f  the   in- 

habitants accumulated,  while  no  one  dreamed  of  draining    t ...  :,;icnt 

abodes  of  pernicious  fevers. 

At  the  present  day,  we  are  told,  this  state  of  things  h;  s  been  altered, 
and  Valparaiso  HO  longer  resembles  itself.  .  We  should  like  to  believe  it; 
but  the  carelessness  of  the  South  Au.vrif.ir..  so  well  known  to  us,  compels  us 
to  very  circumspect  in  such  a  matter. 

In  one  of  the  dirtiest  and  worst-famed  streets  of  Valparaiso  was  a  house 
which  we  ask  the  reader's  permission  .to  describe  in  a  fe\r  \v< 

We  art!  compelled  at  the  outset.  to  confess  th;  i  if  the  architect  intrusted 
with  its  construction  had  shown  himself  more  than  sober  In  the  ( retribution 
of  the  ornaments,  he  had  built  it  perfectly  to  suit  the  trade  of  the  various 
tenants  destined  in  future  to  occupy  it  one  after  the  other. 

It  was  a  clay-built  hovel.  The  funute  looked  upon  the  Street  de  la 
Mi  iv  ••!;  the  opposite  side  had  an  outlook  of  the  sea,  above  which  it  project- 
ed fora  certain  distance  upon  posts. 

This  house  was  inhabited  by  an  innkeeper.  Contrary  to  the  European 
buildings,  which  grow  higher  they  rise  from  the  ground,  this  house  grew 
larger;  so  that  the  upper  part  was  lofty  and  well  lighted,  while  tue  shop 
and  other  ground-floor  rooms  were  confined  and  gloomy. 

Th.  -cupier  had  skifully  profited    by  his    architectural   arrange- 

ment to  have  a  room  made  in  the  wall  between  the  first  and   second    1. 
which  was  reached  by  a  turning  stair  <•;!-'•,  (•"iieealed  in  the  masonry. 

This  room  was  so  built  that  the  slight  in    the   street    distinctly 

reach'  -of  persons  in  it   wl  .:  any  they  might  make, 

ever  loud  it  might  be. 

•iy  landlord,  occupier  of  this  house,  had  naturally  a  rather  ir 
custom    of    people    of    every   description— MH  .    and 

others,  wl:  might  bring  them  hit  »  unpleasant  diflicultier;  with    1lm 

Chilian   police;  consequently,  a   whale-!  ncd  to   a  ;m<r 

undi. r  ;>ening  on  the  sea,  off 

ter  to  the  C  ;'t  whi-nov  the 

agent-  M,  evinced  a  'l<.Vnv  toMiy  a   '!•.!./!• '.';:'.ry  vi-it  to  I  is  fieri. 

'"Tlii-  '.vii — and  probably  Nsii!  :ako 

or  a  fire  has  caused  this   i  the   e.r-.th 

of  Valparaiso — -by  the  name  of  the  /. 

On    an    iron  i,   and   creaking   with  every 

breath  of  wind,  ther  .  fj/o 

.*urrouwled    by  oral!  V.i  of  the 

sign  to  which  I  have  allnd    : 

canda  del  Sol.  was.  a  tall,  dry  fel- 


34  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

low,  will,   an   angular  face   end  crafty  look  ;  a  mixture    of  the    Arancano, 

.:,iard,  whose  morale  responded  perfectly  to  ]iis pliysiqve  j  that 

•  iy  |ie  combined  in  himself  the  vitas  of  the  tbitje  races  to   which   he 

belonged;  ml,  black,  and  white;  without  possessing  one  single  virtue  of 
tlu-ii  "  Jiii'l  that  beneath  the  shadow  of  an  avowed  and  almost  honest  trade 
irriedon  clandestinely  some  twenty,  the  most  innocent  of  which  would 
taken  him  to  the  presidios  or  galleys  for  life,  had  he  been  discovered. 

Sonic  two  months  after  the  events  we  described  in  a  previous  chapter, 
about  eleven  of  the  clock  on  a  cold  and  misty  night,  Senor  Ecnito  garzuela 
-•ated  in  melancholy  mood  within  his  bar,  contemplating  with  mournful 
;-n.'  diverted  room  of  his  establishment. 

The  wind  blowing  violently,  caused  the  sign  of  the  meson  to  creak  on  its 
hinges  \\itli  gloomy  complaints,  and  the  heavy  black  clouds  coming  from  the 
south  moved  weightily  athwart  the  sky,  dropping  at  intervals  heavy  masses 
of  rain  on  the  ground*  loosened  by  previons  storms. 

•  Tome,"  the  unhappy  host  muttered  to  himself  with  a  piteous  air,  "  there 
i*  another  day  which  liisishes  as  badly  as  the  others.  Satigre ^cle  .Vies  !  for 
the  last  week  I  have  had  no  luck.  If  it  continues  only  a  fortnight  longer  I 
ahall  be  i-uiiicil  a  man." 

It  fact,  through  a  singular  accident,  for  about  a  month  the  Locanda  del 
Sol  had  been  completely  shorn  of  its  old  brilliancy,  and  the  landlord  did  not 
know  any  reason  for  its  eclipse. 

The  MMind  cf  clanking  glasses  and  cups  was  no  longer  heard  in  the  room, 
u.Miall\  affected  by  thirsty  souls.  Strange  change  in  human  things  !  Abun- 
•lancr  bad  been  too  suddenly  followed  by  the  most  perfect  vacuum.  It 
might  be  said  that  the  plague  reigned  in  this  deserted  house.  The  bottles 
remained  methodically  arranged  on  the  shelves,  and  hardty  two  passers-by 
hud  come  in  during  the  past  day  to  drink  a  glass  of  pisco,  which  they  hasti- 
ly paid  lor,  :-o  eager  were  they  to  quit  this  den,  in  spite  of  tlie  becks,  and 
nods,  anil  wreathed  smiles  of  the  host,  who  tried  in  vain  to  keep  them  to 
talk  of  public  affairs,  and,  above  all,  cheer  his  solitude. 

After  a  lew  words  we  have  heard  him  utter,  the  worthy  Bon  Bcnitorose 
carelessly,  and  prepared,  with  many  an  oath,  to  close  his  establishment,  so  at 
nny  rate  to  save  in  candles,  when  suddenly  an  individual  entered,  then  two, 
then  ten,  and  at  last  such  a  number  that  the  locandero  gave  up  all  attempts 


at  counting  them. 


These  men  were  all  wrapped  up  in  cloaks  ;  their  heads  were  covered  by 
tfelt  hats,  whose  broad  brims,  pulled  down  carefully  over  their  eyes,  render- 
ed them  perfectly  unrecognisable. 

room  was  boon  crowded   with  customers  drinking  and   smoking,  but 
ni.t  uttering  a  word. 

The  extraordinary  thing  was  that,  although  all  the  tables  were  lined,  such 

a  ix -ligioiis  silence  prevailed  among  these   strange  bibbers  that   the   noise   of 

the  rain  pattering  outside  could  be  distinctly  heard,  as  well  as  the    footfalls 

of  the  hoi-M-s  ridden  by  the  serenes,  which   resounded  hoartcly  on  the  peb- 

in  t  i.c  muddy  ponds  that  covered  the  ground. 

rceaV.U   surprised  by  this  sudden  turn  of  fortune,  had  joyful- 

l  ing  his  unexpected  customers  ;  but  all  at  once  a  singular 

1,  which  Senor  Sarzuela  was  far  from  anticipating.     Although 

•/  that  you  can  never  have  enough  of  .a  good  thing — and  prov- 

dom  of  nations— it  happened   that  the   affluence   of  people. 

\e  made  an  appointment  at  his  house,  became  so   consid- 

I  such  gigantic  proportions,  that  the  landlord  himself  be- 

ii'i-  his  hostelry,  empty  a  moment   previously,  was  now 

that  l;o  fcccn  did  not  know  where  to  put  the  new   arrivals  who 

continued  to  flock  in.     la  fact  the  crowd,  after  tilling  the  common  room, 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  35 


had,  like  a  rising  tide,  flowed  over  into  the  adjoining  room,  then  it  csca- 
laded  the  stairs,  and  spread  over  the  upper  floors. 

A I  the  iirst  str  >ke  of  eleven  more  than  two  hundred  customers  occupied 
the  L.n'.unl.i  del  Sol. 

The  loj.indero,  with  that  craft  which  was  one  of  the  most  salient  points 
of  his  character,  then  comprehended  that  something  extraordinary  \vas 
about  to  happen,  and  that  his  house  \vould  be  the  scene. 

At  t ho  thought  a Qpnvujsive  tremor  seized  upon  him,  his  hair  began  to 
.stand  uii  cnd,;md  he  sought  in  his  brain  for  the  means  he  must  employ  to 
get  ri  1  of  these  sinister  and  silent  guests. 

In  his  despair  he  ro-;e  with  an  air  \vhich  lie  sought  to  render  in  >>!  r  ^olute, 
and  walked  to  the  door  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  closing  his  establishment. 
The  customers,  still  silent  as  fish,  did  not  make  a  sign  of  moving;  on  the 
contrary,  they  pretended  they  noticed  nothing. 

Don  JJenito  felt  his  nervousness  redoubled. 

Suddenly  the  voice  of  asereno  singing  in  the  distance  furnished  him  with 
the  pretext  he  vainly  sought,  b}'  shouting  as  he  passed  the  locanda  : 

uAoe  Maria  purunma.  Lot  oitte  hem  dado  y  llucc"  ([  .salute  you,  most 
pure  .Mary  !  Eleven  has  struck,  and  it  rains.) 

liough  accompanied  by  modulations  capable  of  making  a  dog  weep, 
the  sacramental  cry  of  the  sercno  absolutely  produced  no  impression  on 
mine  host's  customers.  The  force  of  terror  at  length  restoring  him  a  slight 
degree  of  •  nor  Sar/uela  decided  on  directly  addressing  his  obsti- 

nate customers,  ror  this  purpose  he  deliberately  posted  himself  in  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room,  thrust  his  list  into  his  side,  ai?d  raising  his  head,  .said  in  a 
voice  which  he  tried  in  vain  to  render  firm,  but  whose  tremor  he  could  not 
hide  : 

"Senores  cabal! cros,  it  is  eleven  o'clock.  The  police  regulnl ions  forbid 
me  keeping  open  longer.  Have  the  goodness,  I  beg  you,  to  withdraw  with- 
out delay,  so  that  1  may  close  my  establishment." 

This  harangue  from  which  he  promised    himself  the  greatest  success,  pro- 
•  !y  contrary  to  what  he  expected.     The   strangers   vig- 
<n-o  i>l    smote  the  table  with  their  glasses,  shouting  unanimously : 
.ink!"   , 

The  landlord  bounded  back  at  thi-j  fearful  disturbance. 

u  Still,  cabal]  .''  he  ventured  to  remark,  after  a  moment's  hesitation, 
'•the  police  regulations  are  severe.  It  is  eleven,  and *' 

lie  -  .  >  more  :  i '  :  -commenced  with  even  ^ivater  intensity, 

mi  1  t:        :  ;....'.:     ihouted  toother,  in  a  voice  of  thunder,  ';  Drink  !" 

A  pea  ii;»n,  ea-y  to  comprehend,  then  took  place  in  the  mind  of  mine  host. 
Fancying  that  a  personal  attack  was  made  on  himself,  p  :  'is  in- 

»-.vard  di-flppeared  to  make  room  for  the  miser, 
;  ,  him — his  property. 

"  A.I."  ;  i  iV/cris'i  e.\.i>p  -ration,  ';  that  is  the  gam-  !     Well,  wo 

will  seo  if  I  am  master  in  my  own  house.     1  will  go  after  th- 

This  t.hivat  of  justice  from  the  mouth  of  the  worthy  Sarzucla  appeared  so 
droll,  that  the  cast  ;t,  with  an  unanimity  that  did  them  all 

credit,  into  a  burst,  of  Homeric  laughter  right  under  the  poor  fellow's  nose. 
This  was  the.  crowning  stroke,  the  cap-piece.  The  host's  anger  was  convert- 
ed into  ravin-c  madness,  and  he  rushed  head-foremost  at  the  door,  under  tho 
laughter  and  inextinguishable  shouts  of  his  persecutors.  ]\\\t  he  had  hardly 
crossed  the  threshold  of  his  hou.-.e  ire  a  njw  arrival  seized  him  unceremoni- 
ously ..id  hurled  him  back  roughly  into  the  room,  saying  in  a 
bantering  voice  : — 

<;  What  lly  !i\>  stung  you,  my  dear  landlord  ?  Arc  you  mad  to  go  out 
bftre-hesded  in  suck  weather,  at  the  risk  of  catching  a  pleurisy  ?'* 


3G  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

And  then  while  thclocandero,  terrified  and  confounded  by  this  rede  shock, 
tried  t,,  main  his  balance  and  re-establish  a  little  order  in  his  ideas,  the  un- 
kuo  vn,  as'  cool  I  v  as  if  he  were  at  home,  had,  with  the  help  of  some  01  the 
cu.tnners,  to  whom  he  made  signs,  shut  the  shutters  and  bolted  the  door  M  ith 
as  'lunch  care  as  Sarzuela  himself  usually  devoted  to  this  delicate  operation, 
.ere,  now  that  urdone,"  the  stranger  said,  turning  to  the  amazed  host 
"suppose 'we  have  a  chat,  cvmpadre.  Ah,  1  suppose  you  do  not  recognise 
me  .'•'  he  added,  as  he  removed  his  hat  and  displayed  a  fine  intelligent  face, 
vcr  which  a  mocking  unite  wi:s  nt  this  moment  playing. 

"  Oli,  el  Senor  Don  Gaetano  !"  said  Sarzuela,  whom  this  meeting  was  far 
from  pleasing,  and  who  tried  to  conceal  a  horrible  grimace. 

'•  Mlenee  !"  the  other  said.     "  Come  hither." 

"With  a  gesture  he  drew  the  landlord  into  a  corner  of  the  room,  and,  lean- 
ing down  to  his  ear,  said  in  a  low  voice  : — 

u  Are  there  any  strangers  in  your  hou.se  ?" 

"  Look  !"  he  sakl  with  a  piteous  glance,  as  he  pointed  to  the  still  drinking 
cn-totuers,  " that  legion  of  demons  invaded  my  house  an  hour  back.  They 
drink  well,  it  B  true  ;  but  there  is  something  suspicious  about  them  not  at  all 
encouraging  to  an  honest  man." 

"  The  more  reason  that  you  should  have  nothing  to  fear.  Besides,  T  am 
not  alluding  to  them.  I  ask  you  if  you  have  any  strange  lodgers  ?  As  for 
the  e  men,  you  know  them  as  well  as  I  do.  perhaps  better." 

"From  top  to  bottom  of  my  house  I  have  no  other  persons  than  these  cab- 
alleros,  whom  you  say  I  know.  It  is  very  possible  ;  but  as  ever  since  the/- 
have been  here,  thanks  to  the  way  in  which  they  are  muffled,  it  hw  been 
inij  -,-iljle  for  me  to  see  the  tip  of  a  nose,  1  was  utterly  enable  to  recognise 
them." 

"  You  arc  a  donkey,  my  good  friend.  These  men  who  bother  you  so  great- 
ly are  all  Dauph'yeers." 

"  Really  !"  the  amazed  host  exclaimed  ;  "  then  why  do  they  hide  their 
faces  ?'' 

'•  My  faith,  Master  Sarzuela,  I  fancy  it  is  probably  because  they  do  not 
wish  to  have  them  seen." 

And  laughing  at  the  landlord,  who  was  sadty  out  of  countenance,  the 
stranger  made  a  sign.  Two  men  rose,  rushed  on  the  poor  fellow,  and  before 
lie  could  even  guess  what  they  intended,  he  found  himself  so  magnificently 
garotted  that  he  could  not  even  cross  himself. 

"  Fear  nothing,  Master  Sarzuela;  no  harm  will  befall  you,"  the  stranger 
continued.  "  We  only  want  to  talk  without  witnesses,  and  as  you  sire  natu- 
rally a  chatterer,  we  take  our  precautions,  that  is  all.  So  be  calm  ;  in  a  few 
hours  you  will  be  free.  Come,  look,  sharp,  you  fellows,"  lie  continued,  ad- 
<hv»iug  his  men.  "  Gag  him,  lay  him  on  his  bed,  and  turn  the  key  in  his 
door.  Good-by,  my  worthy  host,  and  pray  keep  calm." 

The  stranger's  orders  were  punctually  executed ;  the  luckless  Sarzuela, 
tied  and  gagged,  was  carried  from  the  room  on  the  shoulders  of  two  of  his 
beforo  assailants,  borne  up  stairs,  thrown  on  his  bod,  and  locked  in  a  twink- 
limr^ere  he  had  even  time  to  think  of  the  slightest  resistance. 

^e  will  leave  him  to  indulge   in  the  jiloomy   reflections   which   probably 
•  '.«-d  him  in  a  throng  so  soul* as  he  was  alone,  face  to  face  with  his   cles- 
1     M  id  return  to  the  large  room  of  the  locanda,  where    persons  far   more 
Interesting  to^  us  than  the  poor  landlord  are  awaiting  us. 

1  he  Dinph'yeen,  so  soon  as  they  found  themselves  masters  of  the  hostelry, 
ranged  the  tables  one  on  tlio  other  against  the  walls,  so -as  to  clenr  the  cen- 
tre of  the  room,  and  drew  up  the  benches  in  a  line,  on  which  they  seated 
CbemseiTi 

Locanda  del   Sol,  owing  to  the  changes  it  underwent,  was  in  a  few 
moments  completely  metamorphosed  into  a  club. 


Til  K    T I  G  E  II  -  S  L  A  Y  £  II .  37 

The  last  arrival,  the.  m:in  \vlio  had  given  tho  order  to  gng  the  host,  en- 
joyed, aivonli.i :;  to  all  appear  me '>,  a  eeriaiu  inll.ienc  •  over  the  honorable 
company  collected  at  t  lis  ;n  mieut  on  the  zro'.i  rl-llo.ir  room  of  the  hostelry. 
So  so  >.»  as  tliu  nmtjiL'rof  t!i«  no  no  !;a  I  di  vi;r>.- ir-l  h  •  t  »'c  off  his  cloak, 
made  a  sign  commanding  silence,  and  speaking  in  excellent  French,  said  in 
a  clear  a:id  sonorous  void.- ; 

u  Brethren,  thanks  for  your  punctuality/' 

T:ie  Da  tph'ycers  jx)litely  returned  his  salute. 

"Gentlemen,"  be  continued,  "our  projects  arc  advancing.  Soon,  T  hope, 
we  slri'l  attiiin  the  object  to  which  we  have  so  long  been  tending,  and  quit 
that  obocarity  i;»  which  \ve  are  languishing,  to  conquer  our  place  in  the  sun- 
shine. America  is  a  marvellous  land,  i:i  which  every  ambition  can  be  satis- 
fied. I  have  taken  all  thfc  necessary  measures,  as  I  pledged  mvself  to  you 
to  do  a  fortnight  ago.  when  I  li-id  the  honor  of  convening  yo-i  lor  the  first 
ti;n  •.  Wo  li  ivc  s  i  ;ce,'  \jt\.  Yo  i  u'.-ro  kind  enougii  to  appoint  me  director 
ol'  the  Mcxicjin  movement,  and  I  thank  you  for  it.,  gentleman.  A  con 
ion  of  three  thousand  acres  of  laud  has  been  mado  me  at  (jJuet/alli.  in  Up- 
per Souora.  The  first  step  has  been  taken.  My  lieutenant,  l)e  Laville, 
started  yesterday  for  Mexico,  to  take  j)ossession  of  the  {iranted  territory. 
I  have  t  >-d.iy  another  req  lest  to  make  of  you.  You  who  listen  to  me  here 
are  all  EuiMtier.n  or  Xorta  Americans,  and  you  will  understand  me.  For  a 
very  10114  tinu;  the  IXriphVecr-s,  the  successors  of  the  Brethren  of  the  Coast 
have  bee:i  calmly  watching,  as  apparently  disinterested  spectators  of  the 
ondlev*  dnma  of  the  American  republics,  the  sudden  changes  and  shame- 
volutions  of  the  old  Spanish  colonies.  The  hour  ha*  arrived  to  throw 
ourselves  into  the  contest.  I  need  one  hundred  and  Jifty  devoted  men. 
(Juet/alli  will  serve  them  as  a  temporary  refuge.  1  shall  soon  tell  them 
what  1  exjK-ct  from  their  courage  ;  but  you  must  strive  to  carry  out  what  I 
attempt.  The  enterprise  I  meditate,  and  in  which  I  shall  possibly  perish, 
is  entirely  in  the  interest  of  the  association.  If  1  succeed,  every  man  who 
took  part  in  it  will  have  a  large  reward  and  splendid  portion  insured  him. 
You  know  the  man  who  introduced  me  to  you,  and  he  had  gained  your  en- 
tire confidence.  The  medal  lie  gave  me,  and  which  L  now  show  you, 
proves  to  you  that  he  entirely  responds  forme.  Will  you,  in  your  turn, 
tr.isr  in  me  as  lie  has  done  I  Without  you  I  can  do  nothing,  i  await  your 
reply." 

Jle  was  silent.  His  auditors  began  a  long  discussion  among  themselves, 
though  in  a  low  voice,  which  they  carried  on  for  some  time.  At  length  si- 
lence was  restored,  and  a  man  ro-e. 

••  « '  -  :  1 1  <  r  i  -tan  de  Lhorailles,"  he  said,  "  my  brethren  have  requested  me 
to  answer  you  in  their  name.  You  presented  yourself  to  u-,  supported  l>y 
the  recommendation  of  a  man  in  who-.n  we  have  the  iiio-^t  entire  confidence. 
Your  conduct  has  appear.-  1  to  confirm  this  ive  >m-iien  lution.  The  one  lnin- 
rlre  1  and  fifty  men  you  ask  for  are  ready  to  follow  you.  no  matter  whither 
vo:;  may  lead  them,  persuaded  as  they  are  that,  they  can  only  gain  by  second* 
ing  your  plans.  I,  DL'go  Leon,  i  /self  at  i.he  head  of  the  list." 

«*Aiid  I  !" 

"  And  I  !" 

The  DaupliVccrs  shout c-1,  outvying  each  other.  The  count  gave  a  signal, 
and  silence  was  re-established. 

'•  Brothers,  I  thank  you,'' he  said.  "The  nucleus  of  our  association  will 
romain  at  Valparaiso,  and  if  I  need  thorn  1  will  draw  from  that  city  the  reso- 
lute men  I  mny  present  I}'  want.  For  the  moment  one  hundred  and  fifty  men 
ire  sufficient  forjne.  If  my  plans  succeed,  who  knows  what  the  future  may 
have  in  store  for  us  ?  I  have  drawn  up  a  charter-party,  all  the  stipulations 
^f  which  will  be  rigorously  kept  by  myself  and  by  yon,  I  hav  no  doubt. 


38  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

Rear!  and  sign.  In  two  (lays  I  start  for  Talca  :  but  in  six  weeks  I  will  meet 
those  among  you  who  consent  to  follow  me,  and  then  I  will  communi- 
to  them  my  plans  in  their  fullest  details." 

"Captain  do  Lhorailles,"  replied  Diego  Leon,  "  you  say  that  you  Lave  only 
need  of  one  hundred  and  fifty  men.     Draw  them  by  lots,  then  j  for  all  wish 
•.•ompany  you." 

"  Thank  you  once  again,  my  brave  comrades.  Believe  me,  each  shall  have 
his  turn,  the  project  I  have  formed  is  grand  and  worthy  of  yon.  Selection 
would  only  arouse  jealousy  among  men  all  equally  worthy.  Diego  Leon,  I 
intrust  to  you  the  duty  of  drawing  lots  for  the  names  of  those  who  are  to 
form  part  of  the  first  expedition." 

"  It  shall  be  done,"  said  Leon,  a  methodical  and  steady  Bearnese  and  ex- 
corporal  of  the  Spah is. 

"And  now,  my  friends,  one  last  word.  Remember  that  in  three  months  I 
shall  expect  you  at  Gueztalli  ;  and,  by  the  aid  of  Heaven,  the  star  of  the 
Datiph'yecr  shall  not  be  dimmed.  Drink,  brothers,  drink  to  the  success  of 
our  enterprise  !" 

"  Let  i\s  drink  !"  all  the  Brethren  of  the  Coast  shouted  together. 

The  wine  and  brandy  then  began  flowing.  The  whole  night  was  spent  in* 
an  orgie,  whose  proportions  became,  towards  morning,  gigantic.  The  Count 
de  Lhorailles — thanks  to  the  talisman  the  baron  gave  him  on  parting — had 
found  himself,  immediately  on  his  arrival  in  America,  at  the  head  of  resolute 
and  unscrupulous  men,  by  whose  help  it  was  easy  for  an  intellect  like  his  to 
iplhh  great  things. 

Two  months  after   the  meeting  to  which  we  have  introduced  the  reader, 
the  count  and  his  one   hundred  and  fifty  Dauph'yeers  were  assembled  at  the 
colony  D|'  (luetxsilli — that  magnificent  concession  which  JM.  de  LLorailles  had 
iiiul  through  his  occult  influences. 

The  count  appeared  to  command  good  fortune,  and  everything  he  under- 
took succeeded.  The  projects  which  appeared  the  wildest  were  carried  out 
by  him.  Jlis  colony  prospered  and  assumed  proportions  which  delighted  the 
Mexican  government.  The  count,  with  the  tact  and. knowledge  of  the  world 
he  thoroughly  possessed,  had  caused  the  jealous  and  the  curious  to  be  silent. 
lie  had  created  a  circle  of  devoted  friends  and  useful  acquaintances,  who  on 
various  occasions  pleaded  in  his  behalf  and  supported  him  by  their  credit. 

Our  readers  can  judge  of  the  progress  he  had  made  in  so  short  a  time- 
scarce  three  years — when  we  say  that,  at  the  moment  we  introduce  him  on 
the  stage,  he  had  almost  attained  the  object  of  his  constant  efforts.  He  was 
nb'»Mt.  to  <;ain  an  honorable  rank  in  society  by  marrying  the  daughter  of  Don 
Sylva  de  Torres,  one  of  the  richest  hacienderos  in  Sonora  :  and  through  the 
iull'ieuce  of  his  future  father-in-law  he  had  just  received  a  commission  as 
captain  i?f  a  free  corps,  intended  to  repulse  the  incursions  of  the  Comanches 
and  Apaches  on  the  Mexican  territory,  and  the  right  of  forming  this  compa- 
ny exclusively  of  Europeans  if  he  thought  proper. 

We  will  now  return  to  the  house  of  Don  Sylva  do  Torres,  which  we  left 
almost  at  the  moment  the  Count  de  Lhorailles'  entered  it. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  30 

CHAPTER    VI 

( 

BY     THE     WINDOW. 

WHEN  the  young  lady  left  the  sitting-room  to  retire  to  her  sleeping  apart- 
ment, the  count  followed  her  with  a  lingering  look,  apparently  not  at  all  un- 
derstanding the  extraordinary  conduct  of  his  betrothed,  especially  under  the 
circumstances  in  which  they 'stood  to  each  other,  as  they  were  so  shortly  to 
be  married  ;  but,  after  a  few  moments'  reflection,  the  count  shook  his  head, 
as  if  to  dispel  the  mournful  thoughts  ,by  which  he  was  assailed,  and,  turning 
to  I)  >  i  Sylva,  said.:— 

"  Let.  us  talk  about  business  matters,     Are  you  agreeable  ?" 

"  Have  you  anything  new,  then,  to  tell  me  ?" 

"  Miny  tilings'." 

"Interesting  ?" 

'•  You  shall  be  the  judge." 

"  (Jo  on,  then.     I  am  all  impatience  to  hear  them." 

"  Let  us  proceed  in  rotation.  You  are  aware,  my  friend,  why  I  left  Guetz- 
alli  r 

i;  Perfectly.     Well,  have  you  succeeded  ?" 

"  As  I  expected.  Thanks  to  certain  letters  of  which  T  was  the  bearer, 
and,  above  all,  your  kind  recommendation,  General  Marcos  received  me  in  the 
most  charming  manner.  The  reception  he  deigned  to  accord  me  was  most 
affectionate.  In  short,  he  gave  me  unlimited  leave,  authorising  me  to  raise, 
not  only  one  hundred  and  fifty  men,  but  double  the  number  if  I  considered 
it  nec.'Ass-irv." 

"  O!i.  that  is  magnificent." 

"  Is  it  not  ?  He  told  me  also  that  in  a  war  like  that  I  was  about  to  un- 
dertake— for  my  cha*e  of  the  Apaches  is  a  real  war — he  left  me  at  liberty  to 
act  as  I  pleased,  ratifying  beforehand  all  [  might  do,  being  assured,  he  added, 
that  it  would  ever  bu  for  the  glory  and  interest  of  Mexico." 

"  Come,  I  am  delighted  with  the  result.  And  now,  what  are  your  inten- 
tions ?» 

'•  I  have  resolved  on  quitting  you  to  proceed,  in  the  first  place,  to  Guet- 
zalli,  whence  I  have  n  >w  been  absent  nearly  three  weeks.  1  want  to  visit 
my  colony,  in  order  to  see  if  all  goes  on  as  f  'would  wis'i,  arid  if  my  men 
are  happy.  On  the  other  hand,  I  s!ia!l  not  be  sorry,  before  departing  for 
!y  a  long  p>rio  I  with  a  greater  p  irt  of  my  f>r  98S,  to  protect  my  colo- 
nists /,  by  throwing  up  round  the  establishment  earth- 
works strong  enough  t  >  r  -jnlvj  a.  i  a^.i  ilr  of  '  -.  This  is  the  more 
important,  because  Guetze.Hi  must  always  remain,  to  a  certain  extent,  my 
head  quart' 

"  All  right;  and  you  start?" 

"This  very  evening.*' 

'•So so- »n  r 

'•  I  must.     You  are  aware  how  time  presses  at  present." 

"It  is  true.      Have  you  nothing  moiv  to  say  to  me  ?" 

"  Pardon  me,  1  have  one  other  point  which  1  expressly  reserved  for  the 
last." 

"  You  attach  a  great  interest  to  it,  then  ?" 

"  Immense." 

"Oh,  oh  !     I  am  listening  to  3*011,  then,  my  friend.     Speak  rpi'-kly." 

<:  On  my  arrival  in  this  rouufry.  :-.t  a  p. -Ho  1  when  th"  enterprises  I  have 
since  successfully  carried  out  \veiv  only  i:i  embryo,  y >u  were,  goo  1  enough, 
Don  Sylva,  to  place  at  my  disp^.-il  not  only  \  .  whic'i  i-  i  auionse, 

but  your  riches,  which  are  incalculable." 


40  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"It  is  true,"  the  Mexican  said  with  a  smile. 

«  1  availed  myself  largely  of  your  offers,  frequently  assailing  your  strong 
box  and  employing  your  credit  whenever  the  occasion  presented  itself 
IVriuit  me  now  to  settle  with  you  the  only  part  of  the  debt  I  can  disc!, urge, 
for  1  am  incapable  of  repaying  the  other.  Here,"  he  added,  taking  a  paper 
from  his  portfolio,  "  is  a  bill  for  100,000  piasters,  payable  at  sight  on  \\alter 


gesture 
other,  it  seems  to  me." 
«  How  so?'5 

"  1  will  explain.  On  yonr  arrival  at  Gnaymas.  you  presented  yourself  to 
me,  bearing  a  pressing  letter  of  recommendation  from  a  man  to  whom  I 
owed  very  great  obligations  a  few  years  back.  The  Baron  tic  Spurtzheim 
described  you  to  me  rather  as  a  beloved  son  than  as  a  friend  in  whom  he 
took  interest.  My  house  was  at  once  opened  to  you — it  was  my  duty  to  do 
so.  Then,  when  I  knew  you,  and  could  appreciate  all  that  was  noble  and 
p-and  in  your  character,  our  relations,  at  first  rather  cold,  became  closer  and 
more  intimate.  I  offered  you  my  daughter's  hand,  which  you  accepted.1' 
"  And  gladly  so,"  the  count  explained. 

"  Very  good,"  the  haciendero  continued  with  a  smile.  "  The  money  I 
could  receive  from  a  stranger — money  which  lie  honestly  owes  me — belongs 
to  my  son-in-law.  Tear  up  that  paper,  then,  my  dear  count,  and  pray  do  not 
think  of  such  a  trifle." 

"Ah!"  the  count  said,  in  a  tone  of  vexation,  "that  was  exactly  what 
troubled  me.  I  am  not  your  son-in-law  -yet,  and  may  I  confess  it  ?  I  fear  I 
never  shall  be." 

"  What  can  make  you  fancy  that  ?  Have  yon  not  my  promise  ?  The 
word  of  Don  Sylva  de  Torres,  Sir  Count  de  Lhorailles,  is  a  pledge  which  no 
one  has  ever  yet  dared  to  doubt." 

"  And  for  that  reason  I  have  no  such  idea.     It  is  not  you  I  am  afraid  of," 
"Who,  then?" 
"  Donna  Anita." 

"  Oh,  oh  !  my  friend,  you  must  explain  yourself,  for  I  confess  I  do  not  un- 
derstand you  at  all,"  Don  Sylva  said  sharply,  as  he  rose  and  began  walking 
up  and  down  the  room  in  considerable  agitation. 

"  Good  gracious,  my  friend,  I  am  quite  in  despair  at  having  produced  this 
discussion!  I  love  Donna  Anita.  Love  as  you  know  easily  takes  umbrage.  Al- 
though my  betrothed  has  ever  been  amiable,  kind,  and  gracious  to  me, 
still  I  confess  that  I  fancy  she  does  not  love  me." 

';  You  are  mad,  Don  Gaetano.  Young  girls  know  not  what  they  like  or 
dislike.  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  such  a  childish  thing.  1  promised 
that  she  shall  be  your  wife,  and  it  shall  be  so." 

'•Still,  if  she  loved  another,  I  should  not  like " 

"  What !     Really  what  you  say  has  not   common  sense.     Anita  loves   no 
one  but  you,  I  am  sure;  and  stay,  would  you  like    to  be  reassured?     You 
say  that  you  start  for  Guetzalli  this  evening  ?" 
"-  Yes." 

'•  Yery  good.     Prepare  apartments  for  my  daughter  and  myself.     In  a  few 
days  we  will  join  you  at  your  hacienda." 
•;  Is  it  possible  ?"  the  count  said  joyfully. 
1  To-morrow  at  daybtvak  we  will  start;  so  make  haste.' 
"  A  thousand  thanks." 
u  Come,  you  are  now  easier  ?" 
"  I  am  the  happiest  of  mortals." 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  41 

«  All  the  better/' 

The  two  men  exchanged  a  fe\v  words  further,  and  separated  with  renewed 
promises  of  meeting  again  soon. 

DOM  Sylva,  accustomed  to  command  despotically  hi  his  establishment,  and 
to  allow  no  o;rj  t->  discuss  his  will,  t  >1  I  his  «lv  i*  iter,  t!»r  >  i^!i  her  waiting- 
maid,  that  she  must  prepare  for  a  rather  long  journey  the  next  morning,  and 
felt  certain  of  her  obedience. 

The  news  was  a  thunderbolt  for  the  young  lady.  She  sank  half  fainting 
into  an  easy  eh  air,  and  melted  into  tears.  It  was  evident  to  her  that  this 
journey  was  only  a  pretext  to  separate  her  from  the  man  she  loved,  ;md 
place  her. a  Jefeueeless  victim,  in  the  power  of  the  man  she  abhorred,  and  who 
was  to  be  her  husband.  The  poor  child  remained  thus  for  several  hours, 
a  prey  to  violent  despair,  and  not  dreaming  of  seeking  impossible  repose  ;  for 
in  the  state  in  which  she  found  herself,  she  knew  that  sleep  would  not  close 
her  eyes,  all  swollen  with  tears,  and  red  with  fever. 

(ir.ulually  the  sounds  of  the  town  died  away  one  after  the  other.  All 
slept,  or  seemed  to  sleep.  Don  Sylva's  house  was  plunged  into  complete 
darkness;  a  weak  light  alone  glistened  like  a  star  through  the  young  girl's 
windows,  proving  that  there  at  least  some  one  was  watching. 

At  this  moment  two  hesitating  shadows  were  cast  on  the  wall  opposite  tho 
haciendero's  house.  Two  men,  wrapped  in  long  cloaks,  stopped  and  exam- 
ined the  dimly  lighted  window  with  that  attention  only  found  in  thieves 
and  lovers.  The  two  men  to  whom  we  allude  incontestably  belonged  to  the 
latter  category. 

"  Hum  !"  the  first  said  in  s  sharp  but  suppressed  voice,  "  You  are  certain 
of  what  you  assert,  Cuchares  ?" 

"  As  of  my  eternal  salvation,  Senor  Don  Martial,"  the  scamp  replied  in  tho 
same  tone.  "The  accursed  Englishman  entered  the  house  while  I  was  there. 
Don  Sylva  appeared  on  the  best  terms  with  the  heretic.  May  his  soul  bo 
confounded  !" 

"\Vo  may  here  remark  that  a  few  years  ago,  and  possibly  even  now,  in  tho 
Mexicans' eyes  all  foreigners  wero  English,  no  matter  the  nation  to  which 
they  belonged,  and  consequently  heretics.  Hence  they  naturally  ranked, 
though  little  suspecting  it,  with  the  men  jvhom  it  is  no  crime  to  kill,  but 
who.M-  as-a.-^ination  is  rather  looked  upon  as  a  meritorious  action.  We  are 
bound  to  add,  to  the  credit  of  the  Mexicans,  that  whenever  the  occasion  of- 
Jercd,  they  killed  the  English  with  an  ardor  which  was  a  sufficient  proof  of 
their  piety. 

Don  Martial  continued  : — 

"On  thy  faith  of  the  Tigrero,  this  man  has  twice  crossed  my  path,  and  I 
have  spared  him  ;  but  let  him  be  careful  against  the  third  meeting." 

"Oh  !"  .said  Cuchares,  "the  reverend  Fra  Ik-cchico  says  that,  a  man  gains 
nplendid  indulgences  by  '  cutting'  an  Englishman.  1  have  not  yet  had  tho 
luck  to  come  across  one,  although  I  owe  about  eight  dead  men.  I  am  much 
inclined  to  indulge  myself  with  this  one  ;  it  would  be  so  much  gained." 

"  On  thy  life,  picaro,  let  him  alone.     That  man  belongs  to  me." 

"  Well,  we'll  not  mention  it  again,"  he  replied,  stilling  a  sigh  ;  "I  will 
leave  him  to  you.  For  all  that  it  annoys  me, although  the  nina  seems  to  do- 
test  him  cordially." 

"  Have  you  any  proof  of  what  yon  pay  ?" 

"  ^Vhat  better  proof  than  the  repugnance  she  displays  so  soon  as  he  ap- 
pears, and  the  pallor  which  then  covers  her  face  without  any  a]  •{  a  rent  reas- 
on ?" 

"Ah,  I  would  give  a  thousand  ounces  to  know  what  to  l>elieve." 

"  Wliat  prevents  yon?  Everybody  is  asleep — n<»  one  \\  iil  set- you.  The 
story  is  not  high — fifteen  feet  at  the  most.  I  am  certain  that  Donna  Anita 
would  be  delighted  to  have  a  chat  with  you." 


42  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

« 

«0h  if  1   conld   but  believe  it  !"  he  muttered  with  hesitation,  casting  a 
aide  :::e. still  lighted  window. 

,\v>  ?  perhaps  she  is  expecting  you. 

•oundrel  !"  • 

«U       '  ,  iv  only  listen  !     If  what  is  saiu  be  true,  the  poor  cmld  must  be 
toaperplexity!  if  not  worse  :  she  has  probably  great  need  of  assistance." 
>•  U  hut  do't  hey  say  ?     Come,  speak,  but  be  briei.' 

-  \        v  >imple  thing— that  Donna  Anita  de  iorres  marries  within  a  week 
the  Ki^i^nmaii,  Don  Gaetano." 

-  \nu  iic.  villain!"  said  the  Tigrero  with  ill-restrained    wrath.       I  know 
not  what  pr,  vents  me  thrusting  down  with  my  dagger  the  words  you  have 

JU--  There's  where   you'd  be  wrong,"  said  the  other,  without  being  in  the 

discovered.     u  I  am  only  an   echo  that  repeats  what  it' hears,  nothing 

;    alone   in    all    (iuaymas   are  ignorant  of  this  news.     After  all, 

there  is  imthinir  astonishing  in  that,  as  you  have  only  returned  to  town  this 

day,  alter  an  absence  of  more  than  a  month." 

t  is  true  ;  but  what  is  to  be  done  '.<" 
"  i  arai  !  ;>llo\v  the  advice  1  give  you." 

ILivro  turned  another  long  glance  on  the  window,  and  let  his  head 
sink  will'  ;  ;i  irresolute  air. 

"What  will  she  say  on  seeing  me  ?"    he  muttered. 

••  <  'annul  a  ! '  the  lepero  said  in  a  sarcastic  tone,  "she   will  cry,   '  You  are 
•ma  »;/•/«/'     It  is  clear,  carai  !     Don   Martial,  have  you  become  a 
timid  child,  that  a    woman's  glance   ean   make   you  tremble  ?  Opportunity 
:ve  hairs,  in  love  as  in  war.     You  must  seize  her  when  she  pre- 
!f :  if  you  do  not,  you  run  a  risk  of  not  meeting  her  again." 
Me.\ici.n  approached  the  lepero  near  enough  to  touch  him,  and,  fixing 
i;inee  on  his  tiger-cat  eyes,  said  in  a  low  and  concentrated  voice  : 

,  s/i  trust  in  you.     You  know  me.     I  have  often  come  to  your 
AYcieyouto  deceive   my  confidence   1  would  kill  you  like   a 
coyote." 

The  T  ijrrcro  pronounced  these  words  with  such   an   accent   of  dull   fury, 

;  ero,  who  knew  the    mini    leloic  v,  hem  he   vas  fctanding,  turned 

pale  n.  ,-j  .k  ol  hin. self,  and  le.lt  a  ,-hi.deer   of  terror  pats  through  his  limbs. 

'•  I  :.n;  devoted    to  you,  Don   JIaitial,"  he  IT  pi  led  in   a    voice,  which    he 

tried  in  vain  to  render  firm.    '""What  ever  may  happen,  count  on  me.     What 

mu-i   1 

:  ;  but  wait,  watch,  at  the  least  suspicious  sound,'the  first  hostile 
ihidow  that  appears  in  the  darkness,  \\arn  me." 

•u  ('mint  on  me.     Go  to  we>rk.     1  am  deaf  and  dumb,  and  during  your  ab 
1  \\iil  wr.teh  o\er  you  like  a  son  over  his  father." 

i  !"  the  'J  igrero  said. 

He  drew  a  II  w  steps  nearer,  undid  the  reata  fastened  rornd  his  loins,  and 
held  it  in  his  right  hand.     Then  he  ral  ed  his  eyes,  measu'-ed   the    distance 
and  ir.rnii.L' the  reata    It»rcibly  n  r.ncl  his   head,  hurled    it  into  L'ona  Anita, 
y.     The  running-  knot  caught  in  an  iron  hook,  and  remained  firmly  at- 
• 

p !''  the  Tigrero  said,  is  he  turned  toward  Cnchares. 
I  he  latter  taid,  as  he  leaned   jigiaust  the  -wUl  j.nd  crossed  his 
1  a:  >\UT  for  eviry thing." 

.  Martial  \vassiti.  liul,  or  feigned  to  be  satisfied,  with    this    assurance, 
ata,  and  taking  a  iu.p  like  <r,e  of  those    panthers   he  had  so 
•  d  mi  Ihe  |:n:iries.  heiai.-ed  hiu:st  if  ly  the  struct h  of  lii.swri.-ts, 
and  >i  e  u.siy  ivuched  the  bakvny.     lie  elimleei  (,ver  and  went  up  to  the  win- 
dow. 


E    TI  (i  ER-SLAYEll.  43 

Donna  An'la  w:rs  a -loop,  liulf  ivclining  in  :r.i  \'.r.     The  p->>r   girl, 

pale  and  exhausted^  her  eyes  swollen  with  tear  <,  had  been  conquered  by 
sleep,  wbic  .  ,  imitations. 

On  her  ina;  !»ir  1  .:luvks  the  teal's  had   tr  g  furrow,  which    was  still 

humid.  Mura.ii  surveyed  with  a  teiuL-r  glance  the  woman  he  loved,  though 
not  daring  to  approach  her.  Surprised  thus  during  her  sleep,  Anita  appeared 
to  him  even  more  bountiful ;  a  halo  of  p-.iriry  a  -id  can  >  MU-- 

round  her.  r  IKT  iv[> ••>.-.•,  and  render  her  holy  and  nnasailable. 

After  a  lo,  14  and  v.jl.ipc  MUS  co.iteinplatio.i,  tlie  ',  l.cid- 

cdou  .      i         rindow,  which    was  only  lean-.-d  to  (f')r  tin   young 

girl  had  i:  i  uf  falling  to  .sleep,  as    she  had    done),  opened    at    the 

slightest  pu.<.ii.  Don  Martial  took  one  step,  and  found  h;m-clf  in  the  room. 
At  ti;  ,::d  chamber  a  religious  respect  fell  on  t 

he  felt  his  hourt  beat  rebel: io'isly  ;  and  tottering,  mad  with  fear   and    love, 
he  fell  o.i  Ins  kmvs  b  ,•  the  side  of  the  being  he  adored. 
Anh:i  opened   ter  i 

"0.!  laiaied,  on  seeing  Don  Martial,  "blessed  be  Go:l,  since   Ho 

send.>  yo.i  lit.  ice  !" 

Tin-  ;;•-.  03  cd  her  with   moistened  eye   and    panting   chest.     But 

suddenly  t::.-  girl  dre.v  herself  up;  her  memory  returned,  and  with  it  that 
timid  in. 1 1  .-;y  i.i'.n:;;  i.i  all  women. 

I.  recoiling  to 'the  extremity  of  the  room,  "  l^gonc,  ca- 
ballero  !  ilo\v  a;e  you  here?  AVho  led  yon  to  my  room  1  Ai:s»\vtr  1  com- 
mand 

Tli«-  '.Ji'.nbly  bowed  his  head. 

"Gc  .i  1,  iii  an  inarticalate  voice,  "God  alone  lias    co:i«i  ictod    me 

to  your  si  ie,  senovlta,  as  you  yourself  said.     Oh,  pardon  me  for  having  dared 

to  su; ,  .     1    have  committed  a  great   fault,l  am  aware  ;  but   a 

inisforui  u-  :i. maces  you;  1  feel  it,  I  guess  it.     Yon  are  alone,  without   s-ip- 

•  io  >av  to  you,  '  Madam,  I  am  very  low,  very  unworthy 

to  Ben  ;»;  j'ou  huve  need  of  a  firm  and    devoteil  heart.     Here  1  am  ! 

Take  .  take  my  life.     I  would  be  so  happy  to  die  for  you  !'     In  the 

name  :iora,  in  the  name  of  what  you  love   most   on  earth,  do 

My  arm,  rny  heart,  are  yours:  dispose  of  them." 

Tli,  mo   young  man  in  a  ci  e,  as   he 

:n,  his   h;i  (1,  and  fixing   on    Donna 

Amt. i  .deli  he  had  thrown  his  entire  soul. 

1  i.r.ied  her  limpid   glance  on   the  young   man, 

and,  \\  :ed  him  with  sh<  rt  step-,  hesitating 

\\Lenshe    arrived    near  l.im    sic   run 

laid  her    t.vo  sun!!,  d  linty    hands 

i  [)!M'-«  d  hc-r  iii'iil le  I  :   his,  th:it  the  rn»n  r<>  felt 

on  hi-  timed  breath,  w.iiie  her  long,  1. 

and  pr.  I  him. 

in  a  harmonious  voice,  "  you   love  me   then, 
Don  M 

M  i  •  mg  man  munnured,  almost  mad  with  love  at  thi> 

contact. 

The  irl  bent  over  him  still  more,  and  grazing  with    hor  rosy  lips 

the  '1  : — 

'.ing  back  with  the  ravishing  m  /vement  of  a 

startled  I'.IAII,  v/hiie  her  bio.v  turned  purple  with  t  |d  made  to 

overc.'i,c  :.  rm  '.'.\\\\  for  i;i    the  presence 

of  ( J •• 

T!n«  t  beneath  the   COIT  -   of  this    kiss. 

With  ;i  '.i-jw  and  sparkling  eyes,  he  seized  the  girl's  arm  and   draw- 


44  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

inp  her  to  the  comer  of  the  room,  where  was  a  statue  of  thy   Virgin,  before 
which  p»rf  mied  oil  was  burning:— 

MI  vo:ir  kne-s,  senorita,"  he  said  in  an  inspired  voice,  and  l|imseif  bow- 
ed tin:  knee. 

The  giri  nhnved  him. 

"  Jlolv  Mothc-r  of  Sorrow  !"  Don  Martial  went  on,  "  Neiistra  Senorade  la 
Soledad*!'  divino  succor  of  the  alllicted,  who  HO  inde.st  all  hearts  !  thoti  see- 
est  the  parity  of  o-ir  souls,  the  holiness  of  our  love.  Before  thee  I  take  for 
my  wife  Donna  Anita  de  Torres.  I  .swear  to  defend  and  protect  her,  before 
and  against  everybody,  even  if  I  lose  my  life  in  the  contest  1  commence 
i  ii<  day  for  the  happiness  of  her  I  love,  and  who  from  this  day  forth  is  real- 
ly my  betrothed." 

After  pronouncing  this  oath  in  a  firm  voice  the  Tigrero  turned  to  the  mai- 
den. 

-  It  is  yo'ir  turn  now,  senorita,"  he  said  to  her. 

The  girl  f.Tvvntly  clasped  her  bands,  and  raising  her  tear-laden  eyes  to  the 
holy  intake,  she  said  in  a  voice  broken  with  emotion: — 

••  N  ;e  tra  Senora  de  la  Soledad,  thon,  my  only  protector  since  the  day  of  my 
'birth,  Unowot.  how  truly  1  am  devoted  to  thee  !     I  swear  that  ail  this  man 
has  siid  is  the  truth.     1  take  him  for  my  husband  in  thy  sight,  and  will  never 
have  another." 

They  ro.*,e,  and  Donna  Anita  led  the  Tigrero  to  the  balcony. 

"  Go !"  she  slid  to  him.  "  Don  Martial's  wife  mu.st  not  be  suspected.  Go, 
my  hr.sband,  my  brother  !  The  man  to  whom  they  want  to  deliver  me  is 
called  the  Count  de  Lhorailles.  To-morrow  at  daybreak  we  leave  this  place, 
probably  to  join  him." 

"And  lie  ?" 

'•Started  this  night." 

"  U  here  is  he  going  ?" 

4i  I  know  not." 

"I  will  kid  him/' 

u  K. -iv  well,  Don  Martial,  farewell  !" 

'*  Farewell.  Ih.nna  Anita  !     Take  courage  :  I  am  hatching  over  yon." 

And  after  imprinting  a  last  and  chaste  kiss  on  the  young  girl's  pure  brow, 
he  chimbm-d  over  the  balcony,  and  hanging  by  the  reata.  glided  down  into 
the  street.  The  haciendero's  daughter  unfastened  the  running  knot,  leant 
out  and  gazed  on  the  Tigrero  as  long  as  she  could  see  him  ;  then  she  closed 
the  window. 

alas  !"  murmured   she,  suppressing   a   ?%h,  "  what  have  T  done  ? 
Holy  Virgin,  t.  o;i  alone  canst  restore  me  the  courage  which  is  deserting  me." 

She  let  t..e  curtain  fall  which  veiled  the  window,  and  turned  to  go  and 
kneel  befre  the  Virgin  ;  but  suddenly  she  recoiled,  uttering  a  cry  of  terror. 
Two  paces  from  her  Don  Sylva  was  standing  with  frowning  brow  and  stern 
face. 

"  1'omia  Anita,  my  daughter,"  said  he,  in  a  slow  and  stern  voice,  "  I  havo 
sei'ii  and  hear  1  everything;  spare  yourself,  then,  I  beg  yon,  all  useless  denial." 
.My  father  !"  the  poor  child  stammered  in  a  broken  voice. 

litMire  !''  he  continued.     "It   is  three  o'clock;  we  set  out  at  sunrise. 
Prepare  yourself  to  marry  in  a  fortnight  Don  Gaetano  de  Lhorailles." 

And,  without  deigning  to  add  a  word,  he  walked  out  slowly,  carefully  clo- 
MIIK  the  door  after  him.  v 

As  Boon  a   she  was  alone  the  young  girl  bent  down  as  if  listening,  tottered 

tew  stops  f  nvarl,  raised  her  hands  with  a  nervous  gesture  to  lier  contract- 
ed throat  -then,  pealing  forth  a  piercing  err,  fell  back  on  the  floor.  She  had 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  45 

CHAPTER    VII. 

T  II  K      DUEL. 

IT  was  about  ei^'it  in  the  evening  \vhcn  tho  Count  du  Lliorailles  left  tho 
residence  of  Don  Sylva  do  Torres.  Tho  feria  tie  plata  was  then  in  all  its 
splendor.  The  streets  of  Guaymas  were  thronged  with  a  joyful  and  motley 
crowd:  the  shouts  of  songs  and  laughter  rose  on  every  ride.  The  piles  of 

gold  heaped  on  the  mouto  tables  emitted  their  yellow  and  intoxicating  re- 
flections in  the  dazzling  gleams  of  the  lights  which  .-hone  in  every  door  and 
window  :  liere  and  there  the  sounds  of  the  vihuelas  and  jarabes  escaped 
from  the  pulqucrias,  invaded  by  t!ie  drinkers. 

TUe  count,  elbowed  and  elbowing,  traversed  as  quickly  as  was  possible  tho 
den*e  groups  which  at  every  instant  barred  his  passage;  but  the  <:o;ivcr>a- 
tion  he  had  had  with  Don  Sylva  had  put  him  in  too  happy  a  temper  for  him 
to  dream  of  being  vexed  at  the  numerous  collisions  he  endured  at  every  mo- 
ment. 

At  length,  after  numberless  difficulties,  arid  wasting  at  least  thrice  tho 
time  he  would  have  employe;!  under  other  circumstances,  he  reached  at 
about  ten  in  the  evening,  the  house  where  he  lodged.  lie  had  spent  about 
two  hours  in  covering  less  than  six  hundred  yards. 

On  arriving  at  the  meson,  the  count  proceded  n'ret  to  the  corral  to  see  his 
horse,  to  which  he  gave,  with  his  own  hand,  two  trusses  of  alfalfa  ;  then,  af- 
ter ordering  that  he  should  be  called  at  one  o'clock,  if  by  accident  (which 
was  most  improbable)  he  retired  to  his  ciutrto  to  take  a  few  hours1  rest. 

The  count  intended  to  start  at  such  an  early  hour  in  order  to  avoid  tho 
heat  of  the  day,  and  travel  more  quickly.  Uesides,  after  his  lengthened  con- 
versation with  Don  Sylva,  the  noble  adventurer  was  not  sorry  to  fi:id  him- 
self alone,  in  order  to  go  over  in  his  mind  all  tho  happy  things  that  had  hap- 
pened during  the  past  evening. 

Fro.n  the  moment  lie  had  landed  in  America  the  count  had  enjoyed — to 
employ  a  familiar  term — a  shameful  good  luck  :  everything  succeeded  with 
him.  In  a  few  months  his  fortune  might  be  thus  summed  up:  A  colony 
founded  under  the  most  favorable  auspices,  and  already  on  the  road  of  pro- 
and  improvement :  while  keeping  his  nationality  intact — that  is  to  say, 
his  liberty  of  action  and  an  inviolable  neutrality — he  was  in  the  service  of 
tho  Mexican  Government,  as  captain  of  a  free  corps  of  one  hundred  and  fifty 
devoted  men,  wit'.i  whom  he  could  attempt,  if  not  carry  out,  the  wildest 
enterprises.  In  the  l.i-t  place,  he  was  on  the  jx>int  of  marrying  the  daughter 
of  a  man  twenty  times  a  millionaire,  as  far  as  lie  had  opportunity  of  judging; 
and  what  in  no\vay  spoiled  th  •  affair,  his  betrothed  was  delightful. 

Dnfbrt&n  tely,  or  fortunately,  according  tho  stand-point  our  readers  may 
think  in  judging  of  our  hero,  tiiis  man,  worn  out  by  the  enervating  eccentri- 
cities of  Parisian  life,  no  longer  felt  his  heart  beat  from  any  emotion  of  joy, 
sorrow  or  irai*  :  all  was  du-.d  within  him.  lie  was  exactly  the  man  wanted 
to  succeed  in  the  country  to  which  accident  had  .»,ent  him.  In  the  irtvat  del 
of  life  he  had  began  in  America  he  had  an  immense  advantage  over  his  ad- 
versaries—that of  never  allowing  himself  to  be  swayed  by  pa.x-ion  ;  and  con- 
sequently, owing  to  his  unalterable  coolness,  he  was  enabled  to  evade  tho 
pit  fall*  incessantly  laid  for  him,  over  which  lie  triumphed  without  appearing 
to  notice  them. 

After  what  we  have  said,  we  have  hardly  need  to  add  that  he  did  not  love 
the  woman  whose  hand  hi*  sought.  She  was  young  and  lovely — so  much  th  - 
brtt.-r.  Had  sin-been  old-and  u-ly  hu  wovld  have  accepted  her  hand  all  til* 
same.  What  did  he  care?  lie  only  sought  one  thing  in  marriage — a  bril 


4G  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

Ihnt  and  enrfed  po  ition.     In  fine,  the  Count  dc  Lhorailles  was  nil  calcula 

iut,   "  We  h:iu-  made  .1  mistake,  however,  in  affirming  that  lie  bar!  not  a  weak 

||(.   was   ambitions.     This   pas>ion,  one  uf  the  most  violent  of  those 

with  which  [leaven  has  afflcted  the  human  race,  was  possibly  the  only  link 

l,v  which  the  fount  was  still  attached  to  humanity.     Ambition  in  him  Lad 

.  pitch,  especially  during  the   last  few  months— it,  had  taken 

•  development—that  he  would  have  sacniiced  all  to  it. 

6  what  was  the  object  of  this  man's  ambition.     What  future 

di.l  In-  (hvain  of?     It  is  probable  that  we  may  explain  this  to  the  reader  in 

fuller  detail  prc.-ently. 

The  (-(Hint  wont,  to  bed  ;  that  is  to  say,  after   wrapping  himself  carefully 

in  his  /araj e,  ho  stretched  himself  on  the  leathern  frame  which  throughout 

Mexico  is  the    substitute  for   beds,  whose   existence  is  completely  ignored. 

a  as  lie  lay  down  he   fell  asleep,  with  that   conscience    peculiar  to  the 

adventurer  whose  every  hour  is  claimed   beforehand,  and   who,  having-   but  a 

few  moments  t<»  grant  to  rest,  hastens  to  profit   by  them,  and    sleeps  as  the 

Span!  a  la  pierna  suelta,  which  we  may  translate  nearly  by  sleeping 

loeed  flats. 

one  in  tl.e  morning  the  count,  as  he  had    promised,  awoke,  lighted  the 

rel-it  \\  hieh  served  liim  as  a  candle,  arranged  his  toilette  to    a  certain  extent, 

:iiv  examined  his  pistols  and  rille,  and   assured  himself  that   his   sabre 

.  ihu-.l  e.is'dy  ;  then,  when  all  tlie.w  various  preparations,  indispen- 

for  every  traveller  careful  for   his  safety,  were   ended,  he   opened  the 

(•i;;'.r;o  and  proceeded  to  the  corral. 

Hi-;  hor-e  was  eating   heartily,  and   gaily  finishing  its  alfalfa.     The   connt 
himself  gave  it  a  measure  of  oats,  which  he  saw  it  dispose  of  with  neighs  of 
,;d  then  put  on  the  saddle.     In  Mexico,  horsemen,    whatever   the 
to  which  they  belong,  never  leave  to   others  the    care  of  at- 
t  heir  steeds  :  for  in  those   semi-savage  countries   the  life   of  the 
• -ponds  nearly  always  upon  the  vigor  and  speed  of  his  animal. 
'I        .     : of  the  meson  was  only  leaned  to,  so  that   the   travellers   might 
stai  t  whenever  they  pleased  without  disturbing-  anybody.     The  count  lit  his 
leaped  into  the  saddle,  and  started  on  a 'trot  along  the  road  leading  to 
th<-  Rancno,     Nothing  is  so  agreeable  as  night  travelling  in  Mexico.     The 
earth,  refreshed  by  the  night  breeze,  and  bedewed  by  the    copious  dew,  ex 
haled  acrid  and  perfumed  scents,  whose  beneficent   emanations  restore   the 
body  .-.11  its  \i;;or,  and  the   mind  its  lucidity.     The  moon,  just  on  the  point 
of  disappearing,  profusely  scattered  its   oblique   raj's,  which    lengthened  im- 
moderately the  shadow  of  the  trees   growing  at   intervals   along   the   road, 
and  made,  t  lu-ui   in   the   obscurity  resemble   a  legion   of  fieshle.ss   spectres. 
The  sky,  of  n  deep  azure,  was  studded  with  an  infinite  number  of  glistening 
Ut  of  which  flashed  the  dazzling  southern  cross,  to  which  the 
Indi.i  ven  the   name  of  For  on  C/iayke.     The  wind    breathed  gently 

1  ranches,  in  which  the  blue  jay  uttered  at  intervals  the  raelodi- 
!'  its  melancholy  song,  with  which  were  mingled  at  times,  in    tho 
proluii'iitirs  of  the  desert,  the  howling   of  the    cougar," the  sharp  miauw  of 
the  panther  or  the  ounce,  and  the  hoarse  bark  of  the  coyotes  in  search  of 

The  count,  on  leaving  Guaymas,  had  hurried  on  his  horse  ;  but  sul-jrgated, 

to  of  himself,  by  the   irresistible  attractions  of  this   autumn  night  he 

u-d  the  pace  of  his  steed,  and  yielded  to  the  flood  of  thoughts 

Which  mounted  incessantly  to  his  brain,  and  plunged  him  into  a  gentle  re v- 

•endant  of  an  ancient  and    haughty  Frank   race,  alone  in  this 

.tally  surveyed  the  splendor  of  his  name  so  long  eclipsed,  and 

.•led  with  joy  and  pride  on  reflecting  that  the  task  was  reserv- 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  47 

cd  for  aim  perhaps  to  rehabilitate  those  from  wh<,m    1.-  <  d,  and  re- 

store, this  time  eternally,  the  fortunes  of  his  family,  of  which  liu  had  hither- 
to proved  MIC.I  a  bud  guardian. 

Tins  laud,  \vhich  he  trampled  under  foot,  would  restore  him  \vl:at  he  had 
lost  and  madly  squandered  a  hundred  fold.  The  moment  had  at  length  ar- 
rived when,  free  Irom  all  hobbles,  he  was  about  to  reali.se  those  plans  for  the 
future  so  long  engraved  on  his  brain.  lie  went  on  thus,  travelli:,;1;  in  the 
country  of  e.iimur.is,  and  so  absorbed  in  his  thoughts,  that  he  no  longer 
troubled  himself  with  what  went  on  around  him. 

Tiie  .itars  werj  beginning  to  turn  pale  in  the  heavens,  and  1  .'-lied 

in  turn.  The  dawn  was  tracing  a  white  line,  which  gradually  assumed  a 
reddish  tint  on  the  distant  obscurity  of  the  horizon.  On  the  approach  of 
day  the  air  became  fresher;  then  the  count,  aroused — if  we  mar  employ  tho 
term — by  the  ijy  impre&ion  produce. 1  on  him  by  the  bountiful  desei  t  <irw, 
pulled  the  folds  of  his  zarape  over  the  shoulders  with  a  shudder,  an  1  started 
at  a  gallop,  directing  a  glance  to  the  sky,  and  muttering : — 

"  I  will  succeed,  no  matter  the  odds." 

A  haughty  defiance,  to  which  the  heavens  seemed  prepared  to  respond 
immediate  1 

The  day  was  on  the  brink  of  dawning,  and,  owing  to  its  struggle  with  tho 
twilig.it,  Lad  become  more  gloomy,  as  always  happens  during  the  few  mo- 
ment.-, preceding  the  apparition  of  the  sun.  The  first  houses  of  the  Kancho 
were  standing  oat  from  the  fog,  a  short  distance  before  him,  \vh'j;i  the  count 
heard,  or  landed  he  heard,  the  sound  of  several  horses'  hoofs  re-echoing  on 
the  pebbic*  behind  him. 

In  America,  by  night,  and  on  a  solitary  load,  the  presence  wf  man  announ- 
ces al-.vsiysor  nearly  .always,  a  peril. 

T.ie  count  stopped  and  listened.  The  sound  was  rapidly  approaching 
The  Frenchman  was  brave,  and  had  proved  it  in  many  circumstances  ;  still 
he  did  ii;-t  at  all  desire  to  be  assassinated  in  the  corner  of  a  ro.id,  aud  per- 
ish miserably  through  an  ambuscade.  He  looked  around,  in  order  to  study 
the  chances  of  safety  offered  him  in  the  probable  event  that  the  arrivals 
enemies. 

plain  was  bare  and  flat:  not  a  tree,  not  a  ditch,  nor  any  elevation  be- 
hind wiiieh  he  could  intrench  himself.  Two  hundred  yards  in  front,  as  we 
have  -aid.  were  the  first  houses  of  the  Rancho. 

The  count  made:  up  his  mind  on    the  instant.     II  i::io    hi.-? 

,:id  gallopeu  at  full    speed   in  the    di  .It 

I  tn  hi:u  a<  if  the  strangers  imitated  him,  and  pressed  on  th"ir  l> 
too. 

•v\  minutes  p.-is-ed  thus,  during  which  the  sound   ;  distinct. 

It  was,  therefore,  evident    to    the  Frenchman  that  the  after 

him.     Ik  t:irew  a  glance  behind  him,  and  perceived  two  shadow^,  ^ii!I    dis- 
tant, r,i>hing  at  full  speed  towards  him.     By  this  time  the  count  : 
ed  the  Ka;:rho.     Reassured  by  the   vicinity  of  houses,  and    ):•  to  ily 

from  a  perhaps  imaginary  danger,  he  turned  back,  drew  his  1:  ,  tho 

road,  t-).)'\  a  pistol  in  each  hand,  and  waited.     The  Bt  :  pres- 

>iii'jr  on  without-checking  the  speed  of  their  horses,  and  were  soon  within 
twentv  yards  of  th«  count. 

<;  \Vho  goes  there  ?"  he  shouted  in  a  finn  and  loud  ^ 

The  unknown  made  no  replv,  aad  appeared  to  redouble  their  speed. 

"  Who's  t'.iere  ?"  tuc  count  repeated.     "  Stop,  or  I  fire !" 

He  uttered  these  worda  with  such  a  determined  accent,  his  countenance 
was  so  intivpi  i.  that,  after  a  few  moments'  hesitation,  the  stumper-  s'opped. 
There  weiv  two  of  them.  The  day,  just  feebly  breaking,  pen  nit  ted  the 
count  to  distinguish  them  perfectly.  They  were  dressed  in  Mexican  co:s- 


48  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

tuire  :  b  -t.  strangely  enough  in  this  country,  wheie,  under  similar  circnm- 
M.lll(.  .  ;;ri!  very  little  about  showing  tlieir  luces,  the  strangers 

••  ILilll,  my  inswteM  I"   shouted  the   count.     "  What  means  this  obstinate 


'i  ii.it  we  probably  have  an  interest  iu  catching  up  to  you,'-  replied  a  hoarse 

>.nv;t>iirally. 

-  'i  IU-M  you  really  are  after  me  ?" 

••  \  ,--..  if  vi). i  arc-  the  foreigner  known  as  the  Count  de  Lhorailles." 
'•  I  am  he/1  said  lie  without  any  hesitation. 
••  \'i-rv  good  ;  then  we  can  come  to  an  understanding." 
'•  I  ask  nothing  bc-tter,  though,  from  your  suspicious  conduct,  you  appear 
to  mi-  to  be  bandits.     Jf  you  want  my  purse,  take  it  and  be  off',  for  1  am  in  a 
burr 

••  Kt-ep  your  purse,  caballero  ;  we  want  to  take  your  life,  and  not  your 
money." 

••  Ah.  ha  !  'tis  :i  trap,  followed  by  an  assassination." 
••  \  ftu  are  mistaken.     I  otl'eryou  a  fair  light." 

"  Hum  !"  the  count  said,  ua  fair  light :  two  against  one — that  is  rather  dis 
proportionate.11 

u  You  would  be  correct  if  matters  were  as  you  aavrne,"  the  man  haughtily 
repiird  wlio  had  hitherto  taken  the  word  ;  "  but  my  companion  will  content 
hmi.-eif  \\irii  looking  on  and  taking  no  part  in  the  duel." 

'•ount  reflected. 

"  I';:!-  in-.i  I"  he  said  at  last. "it  i.s  an  extraordinary  siflalr!     A  duel  in  Mex- 
::•!  with  a  Mexican  !     Such  a  thing  aa  that  has  never  been  heart!  ol  Lu- 
fore." 

"It  is  true,  caballcio;  but  all  things  must  have  a  beginning." 
u  .Enough  of  jesting.     I   ask  nothing  better  than  to  light,  and  I  hope  to 
prove  to  you  tuat  1  am  a  resolute  man  ;  but  before  accepting  your  proposi- 
tion    I  sliould  not.be  sorry  to  know  wiiy  you  force  me  to  light  you." 
••  I •'.  r  what  end  ?" 

'•  Coil. leu  !  Why,  to  know  it.  You  must  understand  that  I  cannot  waste 
my  time  in  fighting  with  every  ruilier  1  meet  on  the  road,  and  who  has  a 

1«»  have  his  throat  cut." 

'•  It  will  he  enough  for  you  to  know  that  I  hate  you." 
"Caramba!     I  .suspected  as  much  ;  but  as  you  seem  determined  not  to 
f>ho\v  M:I-  your  face,  I  should  like  to  be  able  to  recognise  you  at  another  time." 
...«»ug!i  chattering,'"  the  unknown  said  haughtily.     "  Time  is  flying.     We 
ad  Millicient  discussion." 

i'li.  my  ii»aster,  if  that  is  the  cat:e,  get  ready.     I  warn  you  that  I  in- 
tend t.»  i;i\f  you  lioth.     A  Frenchn'.an  would    never  have  any  dilliculty  in 
-  own  a-ainst  t  " 


-  «u\n  a- a  ins  t  two  Mexican  bandits.' 
"  A-  \  o-i  p!c  , 
••  Forward!" 

three  honeben  spurred   their  horses  and  charged.    When  they  met 

pistol    shots,  und  then  drew  their  subres.     The  light  was 
itinato.     One  of  the  strangci-a,  slightly  wounded,  was  carried  off 
1  it-ami  in  a  cloud  of  dust.     The  count,  gra/,ed  by  a 
:   !lis:;  edto  fury,  and  redoubled  bis  efforts  to  master  his. 

but  be  had  before  him  a  stur.ly  opponent,  a  man  of  surprising  eltiil  and 
Bst  o-pi.-d  to  his  own. 


whose  eyes  be  sa-,v  trleauun-  like  live  coals  through  the  .holes  in 
rled  round  him  v.ith  i-xi,r« ordinal y  rapiditv,  making  his   huree 
rvets,  attacking  him  incessantly  wifii  the  point  or  e<!ge 


his 

iie  bounding  out  of  rlach  of  the  counter-blows/ 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER  40 

Tiic  count,  exhausted    himself  i:i    vain  against    this    indefatigable   enemy. 
Ills  movement^  l.i-ticity  —  1m  hight  ;  .!<•  i  —  the 

IK.T-J'.  '  1  ia  be  i  •  ••>•  -n'V  iniT 

the  rupi'lity  of  his  attack.-:  the  i»<  e  «.f'  t;jc  coKib.it,    U  <!o  ibrdil, 

when  tlie  lYcnchman  nuddeiily  It-It  a  f»lip-kn;>t  foil  DM  !,i-  '  .  ••.      Uefbru 

he  could  even  dream  of  kxMeiiing  it  he  was  roughly  lift  ia  saddle, 

and  ItiuHed  to  the  ground  MO  violently  that  h  tinted,  and   fum-l   it 

imp  »>-il>le  to  make  an  effort  to  rUe.     Tiie  >e-.-.  ;:'.<{  g1 

of  ;i  le.v  moments,  ha-1  at  lea::  '.1  i.i  ina.,t.i,':-!;ig    liis    hor-e  ;  he    re- 

turned in  ail  haste  i  te  <»f  iu-riun,  t,.,-   r.vo  ;JHJ;I  :-.o  luriuu.  •! 

not  iK/Lioiii^  it  ;  then,  thinking  it  time  t  ilio  tliiel,  h-j    r 

aAUii  I  ia-<»0v.'d  the  count. 

S  i     )  .ii  .i-i  ,ie  .-  i  A  his  enemy  on  the  ^r-.)\\\i  •'..  •  .  :\vn  leaped  frotn  his 

;in<l  ran  up  to  him.     His  lirht  care  was  to   Tree    ti.e   Kix-iK-hman    tVnm 
.  :p-knot  that  strangled  him,  and  th*  •  re  Iiir.i  to  lii.s  .-' 

\V;LS  not.  a  lengthy  ta.sk. 

'•  Ah  l':  the  count  said,  with  a  bitter  smile,  as  he  ro.se  r.nd  crossed  his  anns 
0:1  hi>  chest,  "  that  is  what  you  call  light  in-V' 

•    i     *  :i.     ;;   >!ie  to  biaiae  ior  what  lias  happened,"  the  cither  said   qjiietl}', 
'•  as  yo  i  wo.ihl  not  ajiive  to  my  proposil; 

Tiie   Frenchiuan    disdained   siny   discussion.    .He  contented    himself  with 

Ms  slio-.ihL-rs  contvmptuon.-ly. 
"  \  o»ir  life  belongs  to  me,"  his  adversary  continued. 

it  a  piece  oi*  treachery  ;  but  no   matter  —  assassinate  me,,  and 
fini-ii  tfj-j  ::ltiir." 

u  I  <lo  not  wish  to  I.  HI  you." 
.'ait  do  you  want,  then  / 

ve  you  a  piece  of  a  Iviee." 
Tiie  count  laughed  sarcastieally. 

.  -iii  um>t  be  mad,  my  good  fellow." 

"  N.it  sj  mach  as  you  iaiuy.     Liston  attentively  to  what  I  have  to  say  to 
you." 

•'  .'  will  do  so  even  for  thy  hope  of  bein^  promptly  freeJ   from  your  pres- 

'•  (iood,Senor  Condo  do   Lhoraille;.     Your  arrival   ia   this  co  intry  has 

I  tlie  tnriappiin.'s-;  of  two  peis.ins." 
u  Nonseii-e  !     \',,\i  are  jesting  with  me." 

'•  I  -p.-.ili  seriously.     Don  Sylva  de  Torres  has  promise  J  you  his  daughter's 
band.'1 

••  li  )\v  docs  it  /concern  you  ?" 


«•  It  is  true.     Why  should  I  conceal  it  ?" 

"  Donna  Anita  does  not  love  you." 

'•  11;  iv.'  d  >  vou  know  that  ?:'  tbe  count  asked  with  a  mocking  s:r,nc. 

"  I  know  it  ;  I  know,  too,  that  bhe  loves  another." 

"Only  think  of  that!" 

t;  And  that  the  other  loves  her." 

u  Ail  t.-;  •  worse  J'»r  him  :  f.ir/1  Kwcar  that  I  will  not  surrender  her." 

1".     You  will  surrender  her  or  die." 

the  imj>et  .      •  Hited,  now  per- 

•lin;^  fill.     '-I  rt^xjat  that  1  will    marry  Donna 

Anita.     If  .  -t  love  me,  well,  that  is  unfurl  n::;.:  •.     I  hope  that 

will  presently  jUt-jr  her  opinion  of  me.     The  marriage  suit*  me,  a:. 
will  succeed  'in  breaking  r 

The  unkr.o-.vn  to  violent  emotion.  His  eye  (1 

an-1  he  sfa'r.pc.'i  .  .'le   an    eflort 

ieeli'.i-^  wit.  d  in  a  slo.. 


GO 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 


"  Tnkc  wo  of  what  yo:;  do,  cabal  lero.  I  have  sworn  to  warn  yon,  and 
|;Vl(.  |  .nt-stlv.  Heaven  grant  that  my  words  fin: I  an  echo  in  your 

In-art,  ai.d  that  von  follow  the  counsel  I  give  you!     Ihe  farst  ti;;:o    accident 
us  dim (her  a-ain  one  of  us  will  die." 

-  [  irilh  .:.••  my  precautions,  be  assured  ;  but  you  are  wrong-  not  to  profit 
by  the  present  occasion  to  kill  n:e,  for  it  will  not  occur  again." 

The  two  strangers  had  by  this  time  remounted. 

"  Cotmt  de  Lhurailles,"  the '  unknown  paid   again,  as  l:o   bent   over  the 

Frenchman,  •'  for  the  last  time,  take  care,' for  I  Lave  a  great  advantage   over 

1  know  you,  and  3-0:1  do  not  know  me.     It  will  be  an   easy  thing    for 

me  to  reach  yo"u  whenever  I  please.     We  are  the  sous  of  Indians  and    fcjpan- 

iar-ls.     AVe  feel  a  burning  hatred  :  so  take  care." 

Alter  1  owing  ironically  to  the  count  he  burst  into  a  .mocking  laugh,  spur- 
red his  horse,  and  started  at  headlong  speed,  followed  by  his  silent  compan- 
ion. The  count  watched  them  disappear  with  pensive  air.  "When  they  were 
l.'-t  in  the  ol security  he  tossed  his  head  several  times,  as  if  to  shake  off  the 
^lo:>my  thoughts  that  oppressed  him  in  spite  of  himself,  then  picked  up  his 
and  pistols,  took  his  horse  by  the  bridle,  and  walked  slowly  toward 
the  pul<|iKTia,  m>ar  which  the  fight  had  taken  place. 

Tho  light  which  filtered  through  the  badly-joined  planks  of  the  door, 
the  songs  and  laughter  that'resounded  from  the  interior,  afforded  a  reasona- 
ble prospect  of  obtaining  a  temporary  shelter  in  this  house. 

"  Hum  !"  he  muttered  to  himself  as  he  walked  along,  "  that  bandit  is 
right,  lie  knows  me,  and  I  have  no  way  of  recognising-  him.  T5y  Jupiter, 
I  have  a  good  eoi:nd  hatred  on  my  shoulders  !  But  nonsense  !':  he  added, 
"  1  was  too  happy.  I.  wanted  an  enemy.  On  my  soul,  kt  him  do  as  he 
will  !  Even  if  Hades  combine  against  me,  I  swear  that  nothing  will  induce 
me  to  resign  the  hand  of  Donna  Anita." 

At  this  moment  he  found  himself  in  front  of  the  pulqueria,  at  the  door 
of  which  he  rapped.  Naturally  inpatient,  angered,  too,  by  the  accident 
which  had  happened  to  him,  and  the  tremendous  struggle  he  had  been  en- 
gaged in,  the  count  was  about  to  carry  out  his  threat  of  beating  in  the  door, 
when  it  was  opened. 

':  Valrja,  me  Dios  /"  he  exclaimed  wrathfully,  "  is  this  the  way  you  allow 
people  to  be  assassinated  before  your  doors,  without  proceeding-  to  their  as- 
sistance?" 

"  Oli,  <>h  !"  the  pulquero  said  sharply,  "  is  an}7"  one  dead?" 

"  No,  thanks  to  Heaven !"  the  count  replied:  "but  I  had  a  narrow  escape 
of  being  killed." 

"  Oli !"  the  pulquero  said  with  great  nonchalance,  "  if  we  were  to  trouble 
«Mir.-elvrs  about  all  who  shout  for  help  at  night,  we  should  L"ve  ciicrgh  to 
do;  and  b  i  les,  it  is  very  dangerous  on  account  of  the  police." 

_  The  count  shrugged  his  shoulders  .and  walked  in,  leading  his  horse  after 
him.    The  door  was  closed  again  immediately. 

The  count  was  unaware  that  in  Mexico  the  man  who  finds  a  corpse,  or 
th-  as.-assin  to  trial,  is  obliged  to  pay  all  the  expenses  of  a  justice 
enormously  expensive  in  itself,  and  which  never  affords  any  satisfaction  to  the 
victim.  In  all  the  Mexican  provinces  people  are  so  thoroughly  convinced  of 
the  truth  of  what  we  assert,  that,  so  .soon  as  a  murder  is  committed,  every 
one  runs  off,  without  dreaming-  of  helping  the  victim  ;  for,  in  the  case  of 
death  supervening,  such  an  act  of  charity  would  many  annoyances  on  the  in- 
dividual who  tried  to  imitate  the  good  Samaritan. 

In  S.,nora  people  do  better  still :  as  soon  as  a  quarrel  begins,  and  a  man 
falls,  they  shut  all  the  doors. 


P 

of 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  51 

CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE     DEPARTURE. 

As  Don  Sylva  had  announced  to  his  daughter,  by  daybreak  all  was  ready 
for  the  start.  In  Mexico,  and  specially  in  Sonora,  where  roads  are  mainly  re- 
markable for  their  absence,  the  mode  of  travelling  differs  utterly  from  that 
adopted  in  Europe.  There  are  no  public  vehicles,  no  relays  of  post  horses  ; 
the  only  means  of  transport  known  and  practised  is  on  horseback. 

A  journey  of  only  a  few  days  entails  interminable  caivs  and  vexations. 
You  must  carry  everything  with  you,  because  you  are  certain  of  finding  no- 
thing on  the  road.  Beds,  tents,  provisions  and  water  before  all,  must  be  car- 
ried on  mule-back.  Without  these  indispensable  precautions  you  would  run 
I  a  risk  of  dying  from  hunger  or  thirst,  and  sleeping  in  the  open  air. 

You  must  also  be  provided  with  a  considerable  and  well-armed  escort,  in 

[order  to  repulse  the  attacks  of  wild  beasts,  Indians  and  especially  robbers 

[with  whom  all  the  roads  of  Mexico  swarm,  owing  to  the  anarchy  in  which 

[this  uhappy  country  is  plunged.     Hence  it  is  easy  to  comprehend  the  earnest 

lesire  Don  Sylva  felt  to  quit  Guaymas  at  as  early  an  hour  as  possible. 

The  court  of  the  house  resembled  an  inn-yard.  Fifteen  mules  laden  with 
[bales  were  waiting  while  the  palanquin  in  which  Donna  Anita  was  to  travel 
being  <rot  ready.  Some  forty  steeds,  saddled,  bridled,  with  musketoons 
it  thf  saddle-bow  and  pistols  in  the  holsters,  were  fastened  to  rings  in  the 
wall  while  a  peon  held  in  hand  a  splendid  stallion,  magnificently  harnessed, 
which  stamped  ami  champed  its  silver  bit,  which  it  covered  with  foam. 

In  the  street  a   crowd  of  people,  among  whom  were  Don  Martial  and  Cu- 

•hares.  already  returned  from  their  expedition  to  the  Rancho,  were  curiously 

•ing  this  departure,  which  they  could  not  at  all  comprehend  at  such  an 

id  van  it'  the  year  so  unpropitious  for  a  country  residence,  and  ma- 

;ing  all  sorts  of  comments  on  the  reason  of  tne  journey. 

all  these  people,  collected  by  accident  or  through  curiosity,  was  a 
evidently  an  Indian,  who,  leaning  carelessly  against  the  wall,  never  took 
03  oil'  the  door  of  Don  Sylva  s  house,  and  followed  with  evident  inter- 
all  the  movements  of  the  haciendero's  numerous  servants. 
'iiis  man,  still  young,  appeared  to  be  an  Hiaqui  Indian,  although  an  obser- 
r.  after  a  close  inspection,  would  have  asserted  the  contrary  ;  for  there  was 
uian'-s  wide  brow,  in  his  .  •  glitter  he  tried  in  vain  to  moder- 

te,  in  the  haughty  mouth,  and  above  all,  in  the  native  elegance  of  his  vigor- 
is  limbs,  which  seemed  carved  on  the  model  of  the  Greek  Hercules,  some- 
hiug  |  'lute  and  independent,  which  rather  denoted  the  proud  Co- 

ma   Apache  than   the   stupid  Hiaqui;  but  in  this  crowd  no 
B    'i  troubling    himself  about  the  Indian,  who  for    his   part,  was 

ref'ul  to  attract  as  little  attention  as  possible. 

The  Hiaquis  are  ac-ustomed  to  come  to  Guaymas,  and  let  themselves  out  as 
orkmen  or  M-rvants  ;  lu-i:  sence  of  an  Indian   there  is   not   at  all 

xtraordinary,  and  is  not  noticed. 

At  last,  at  about  eight  o'clock,  Don  Sylva,  giving  his  hand  to  his  daughter, 
ho  was  dtv-^ed  in  a  charming  travelling   costume,  appeared  benea 

ico  of  the  I  >onna  Anita  was  pale  as  a  ghost.     II--r    ha •.:••_' ard  f«- 1 

ires,  her  swollen  eyes,  testified  to  the  sufferings  of  the  night,  the  re- 
raint  s'-e  forced  on  herself,  even  at  this  moment,  to  prevent  her  bursting  into 
ars  in  tir%  piv-rinv  of  all.  A;  the  >i.jht  of  the  young  lady,  Don  Martial 
id  Cue-hares  exchanged  a  rapid  glance,  while  a  smile  of  indefinable  expres- 
on  played  ro'ind  tin-  lips  of  tiir  Indian  to  whom  we  have  alluded. 
On  the  haciendero's  arrival  sil  ence  v  g  if  by  cnchant- 

ent;  the  arrieros  ran  to  the  heads  of  their  mules;  the  servants,  armed  to 


* 

5o  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

the  teeth,  mounted  ;  and  Don  Sylva,  after  asvirin-  himself  by  a  glance  that 
nil  \\-us  ivadv,  and  that  his  orders  had  been  punctually  executed,  placed  his 
daughter  in  the  palanquin,  where  she  at  once  nestled  like  a  huunuing-bird 
among  rose  leaves. 

At  "a  sign  from  the  haciendero,  the  mules,  fastened  to  each  other  by  the 
tails,  began  to  leave  the  house  behind  the  nana,  whose  bells  they  followed, 
and  escorted  by  peons.  Before  mounting  his  horse  Don  Sylva  turned  to  an 
old  servant,  who,  straw  hat  in  hand,  respectfully  stood  near  him. 

"  Adieu,  Tio  Pelucho  !"  he  said  to  him.  "  I  intrust  the  hou>e  to  you.  Keep 
goo  1  \\  atch,  and  take  care  of  all  in  it.  I  leave  you  Pedrito  and  I  loivutio  to 
help  you,  and  you  will  give  them  the  necessary  orders  for  all  to  go  on  prop- 
erly during  my  absence." 

"  You  may  be  at  ease,Nmi  amo,  "  the  old  man  answered,  saluting  his  mas- 
ter. ''  Thanks  to  Heaven,  this  is  not  tbe  nVst  time  you  have  left  me  alone 
here,  and  1  believe  I  have  ever  done  my  duty  properly." 

'•  You  are  a  good  servant,  Tio  Pelucho,"  Don  Sylva  said  with  a  smile  ;  "  I 
start  in  most  perfect  ease  of  mind." 

••  .May  God  bless  you,  mi  amo,  as  well  as  the  nina  !"  the  old  man  continued, 
crossing  himself. 

"  Good  bye,  Tio  Pelucho,"  the  young  lady  then  said,  leaning  out  of  the 
palanquin.  "  I  know  that  you  are  careful  of  everything  belonging  to  me."  j 

The  old  man  bowed  with  visible  delight.  Don  Sylva  gave  the  order  for 
departure,  and  the  whole  caravan  started  in  the  direction  of  the  Rancho  do  I 
San  Jose. 

It  was  one  of  those  magnificent  mornings  only  known  in  these  blessed 
rq.ions.  The  night  storm  had  entirely  swept  the  sky,  winch  was  of  a  pale] 
blue.  The  sun,  already  high  in  the  horizon,  shot  forth  its  hot  beams,  which 
were  slightly  tempered  by  the  odoriferous  vapours  exhaling  from  the  ground. 
The  atmosphere,  impregnated  by  acrid  and  penetrating  odors,  was  of  exti 
ordinary  transparency;  a  light  breeze  refreshed  tbe  air  at  intervals;  flocks 
birds,  glistening  with  a  thousand  colors,  flew  in  every  direction,  and  th 
mules  following  the  bell  of  the  nena  madrina — the  mother  mule — wei 
urged  on  by  the  songs  of  the  arrieros. 

The  caravan  moved  along  gaily  through  the  sandy  plain,  raising  round  51 
clouds  of  dust,  and  forming  a  long  twining  serpent  in  the  endless  turnings  of 
t  hi*  road.  A  vanguard  of  ten  servants  explored  the  neighborhood,  examin 
ing  the  bushes,  and  shifting  sand  heaps.  Don  Sylva  smoked  a  cigar  whih 
conversing  with  his  daughter;  and  a  rear-guard,  formed  of  twenty  resolut 
laen,  closed  the  march,  and  insured  the  security  of  the  convoy. 

l:i  this  country,  we  repeat  it,  where  the  police  are  a  nullity,  and  coi 
quently  surveillance  impossible,  a  journey  of  four  leagues — and  the  Ranch 
de  Sai>  Jose  is  only  that  distance  from  Guaymas— is  a  -very  serious  atfar 
nnd  demands  as  many  precautions  as  a  journey  of  a  hundred  leagues  with  r 
the  enemies  who  may  be  met,  and  with  whom  you  run  a  risk  of  a  conti 
at  any  moment — Indians,  robbers,  or  wild  beasts;  being  too  numerous,  d< 
termiried,  and  too  greedy  for  plunder  and  murder  to  allow  the  traveller  " 
confide  with  gaiety  of  heart  in  the  speed  of  his  horse. 

They  were  already  for  from  Guaymas,  the  white  houses  of  which  tot 
had  long  ago  disappeared  in  the  numerous  turnings  of  the  road,  \\  ;.en  tl 
capatax,  leaving  the  head  of  the  caravan,  where  he  had  hitherto  rcmaiu 
galloped  back  to  the  palanqiiin,  where  Donna  Sylva  was  still  riding. 

'  Well,  Bias,-'  the  hitter  .said,  "  what  is   there   new  ?     Have  you   r.otk 
anything  alarming  ahead  of  us?" 

"  Nothing,  excellency,'   the  caprstaz- replied:  "all  is  going  well,  and  in 
hoor  ar  the  latest,  we  shall  be  at  the  [land  o." 

-  "U  hence,  then,  the  baste  you  showed  to  join  me  again?" 


THE    TIGER-SLA  YEP/.  53 

<:  Oli !  excellency,  it  is  not  much  ;  but  an  idea  occurred  to  me:  something 
I  wished  v<n  to  Bee." 

"  Ah,  ah  !  '  Don  Sylva  said.     «  What  is  it,  my  lad  ?" 

"  Look,  excellency,"  the  capataz  rontinoed,  pointing  in  a   south- western 
direction. 

'•  Ah  !  what  is  that  ?     A  fire,  if  I  am  not  mistaken." 

"  It  is  indeed  a  fire,  excellency.  Look  here;"  and  lie  pointed  east-south 
ca*t. 

"  Tin-re's  smother.  Who  on  earth  has  lighted  the  fires  on  those  scarped 
points?  What  can  their  object  be  ?" 

'•  Oil,  it  is  easy  enough    to  under-tand  that,  excellency."1 

'•  Do  yo1.:  think  so,  my  boy  ?     Well,  then  y<»  i  will  explain  it  to  me." 

"  I  HIM  willing  to  <i.)  .so.  Stay,"  he  said,  pointing  to  the  first  tire  :  "that 
bill  i-  the  Ceiro  del  (jiigante."  " 

««lti*0> 

'•  And  that,"  the  capataz  continued,  pointing  to  the  second  fire,  "is  the 
Cerro  de  San  Xavier." 

'•  I  think  it  is." 

t:  I  am  certain  of  it" 

"  Well  ?" 

'•  As  we  know  that  a  fire  cannot  kindle  itself,  and  as  people  do  not  amuse 
themselves  with  a  fire  when  the  thermometer  is  np  at  a  hundred '* 

*•  Vo-i  conclude  from  that ?" 

"That  the>e  fires  have  been  lighted  by  robbers  or  Indians,  who  have  had 
scent  of  our  departure.11 

i,,  stay  !  t.iat  is  most  logical,  my  friend.     Continue  your  explanation, 
for  it  interests  me  enormously!" 

Don  Sylva' s  capata/,  or  steward,  wns  a  tall,  herculean  fellow  of  about 
forty,  devoted  bo  ly  and  soul  to  his  master,  who  placed  the  greatest  confi- 
dence in  him.  The  worthy  man  bowed  with  a  S:iiile  of  satisfaction  on  hear- 
ing the  hactendero'd  kind  remarks. 

"  Oli.  now!"  he  went  on,  ';  I  have  not  much  more  to  say,  except  that  the 
la-lr-m.-s  who  are  wat:hing  us  know,  thro  igh  that  signal,  that  Don  Sylva  do 
Torre-;  an  1  liis  tliivi.iter  have  left  tiuaymas  for  the  Jtancho." 

4i.My  fiitli !  you  are  right.  1  ha  I  forgotten  ail  those  details.  I  dM  not 
think  of  nil  the  birds  of  pivy  that  ar^  wat-iiini  on;-  passage,  Well,  after  a  1, 
tho-jgh.  what  do  we  can-  if  the  bandits  ::iv  at  our  heels  }  We  do  not  hide 
ourselves.  Our  start  tooU  place  in  the  proem-e  of  plenty  of  persons,  \\'e 
.11  v  '.riniei-o'is  enough  not  to  f  -ar  any  insult  ;  but  if  any  of  thos.-  picaros  dare 
to  attack  us,  cancans  !  they  will  tind  their  work  cut  out  for  them,  1  am  «.•<>;»- 
vi  ic  •  1.  Push  on,  then,  without  any  il-.ir,  IJ.a^,  my  boy  !  Nothing  unpleas- 
ant .-an  happen  to  us. ' 

The  :iiuted  his  master  an  1  galloped   back   to  the   head  of  the  col- 

umn.    An  hour  later  they  reached  the  Kanclio  without  any  accident. 

Doit  Sylva  rode  at  the  rigtit-haiid  dot  or  of  the  palamj'nn,  talking  to  his 
daughter,  who -only  answered  in  mono  -yllablcs  in  spile  ;inueief- 

foris  -he   made  to  hi-'e  IK  r  sorr.iw  from  !  i-  «'yes,  when  tiie  ha- 

ci^-rl-ro  heard  !iis  nanie  called  repeat.-:! /.      !!«•  turne-l  !  •.:])!..  and 

uttere-l  an  exclamation  of  sun-  man  who  ad  In 

him  tlie  Oi-iiif.  de  Lhoraillcs. 

"What!  sen*  :•  m  here  1    What  fongnlar  hazard  ra  -neet 

yo  '.  s;»  liv-.U'  t'r  l  -hotild   !:• 

On  }.  :he  Donnu  felt  •  n;id  foil  back,  letiingf 

the  ourtJiins  o;  !i[)  from  lur  I.ard. 

'•<>ii  ;'"  •,  "since  last  night  certain 

-  have  aaj  ;  i  must  impart  to  you,  Don  Sylva — things 


54  THE    TIGER-SLAYEK. 

which  will  surprise  you,  I  am  certain  ;  but  the  present  is  not  the  moment  to 
AS\Zk  proper,  my  friend.     But  say,  do  you  set  out  again, 

<aoigo!  ? In  stopping  here  my  sole  object  was  to  await  yon  If  you 
consent  we  will  travel  together.  Instead  of  preceding  you  at  Guetzalli,  we 
shall  arrive  together— that  is  the  only  difference." 

«  Capital !    Let  us  go,"  he  added,  making  a  sign  to  the  capataz.     Ihe  lat- 
ter on  seeing  his  master  conversing  with  the  count,  had  ordered  a  halt :  but 
i  he  caravan  started  again.     The  Rancho  was  speedily  traversed,  and  then 
the  journey  commenced  in  reality. 

The  desert  lay  expanded  before  the  travellers  in  endless  sandy  plains.  On 
the  yellow  ground,  a  long,  tortuous  line,  formed  by  the  whitened  bones  of 
mules  and  horses  that  had  broken  down,  indicated  the  road  which  must  be 
followed  so  as  not  to  go  a-tray. 

About  two  hundred  yards  ahead  of  the  caravan  a  man  was  trotting  along, 
••aivlessly  seated  on  the  back  of  a  skeleton  donkey,  swaying  from  side  to  side, 
half  lulled  to  sleep  by  the  burning  sunbeams  which  fell  vertically  on  his  bare 
head. 

"  Bias,"  said  Don  Sylva  on  perceiving  this  man,  "  call  the  Indian  over  yon- 
tier.  These  devils  of  redskins  know  the  desert  thoroughly'  and  he  can  serve 
as  our  guide.  In  that  way  we  shall  run  no  risk  of  losing  our  road,  for  he 
will  be  sure  to  put  us  right." 

"  Quite  true,"  the  count  observed  ;  "  in  these  confounded  sandhills  no  man 
can  be  sure  of  his  direction." 

"  Go  to  him,"  commanded  Don  Sylva. 

The  capataz  put  his  horse  at  a  gallop.  On  arriving  within  a  short  distance 
•  if  tin'  solitary  traveller,  he  formed  a  sort  of  speaking  trumpet  with  his  hands. 

"  Halloh,  Jose  !"  he  shouted. 

In  .Mexico  all  the  Mansos,  or  civilised  Indians,  are  called  Jose,  and  reply  to 
•  ;une.  which  has  grown  generic.     The  Indian  thus  hailed  turned  round 
suul  asked  :  '•  What  do  you  want  ?" 

It  was  the  man  whom  we  saw  at  Guaymas,  watching  so  attentively  the 
preparations  for  the  haciendero's  departure.  Was  it  chance  that  brought  him 
to  this  spot  ?  That  was  a  question  which  none  but  himself  could  have  an- 
swered 

Bias  Vasquez  was  what  is  called  in  Mexico  a  hombre  de  a  caballo,  versed 
for  u  long  period  in  Indian  tricks.  He  bent  on  the  traveller  an  enquiring 
;rlanee,  which  the  latter  supported  with  perfect  ease.  With  his  head  timidly 
Bowed,  his  hands  laid  on  the  donkey's  neck,  his  naked  legs  hanging  down  on 
either  side,  he  offered  a  complete  type  of  the  Indian  manso,  almost  brutalised 
by  the  vicious  contact  with  the  whites.  The  capataz  shook  his  head  with  a 
dissatisfied  air  ;  his  investigation  was  far  from  satisfying  him.  Still,  after  a 
moment's  hesitation,  he  resumed  his  interrogatory. 

'•  What  are  you  doing  all  alone  on  this  road,  Jose  ?;'  he  asked  him. 

"  I  have  come  from  del  Puerto,  where  I  have  been  engaged  as  a  carpenter. 
M  mined  there  a  month,  and  as  I  saved  the  small  sum  I  wanted,  I  start- 
ed yesterday  to  return  to  my  village." 

All  this  was  perfectly  probable ;  the  majority  of  the  Hiaqui  Indians  act 
in  this  way  ;  and  then  what  interest  could  the  man  have  in  deceiving  him  ? 
He  was  alone  and  unarmed;  the  caravan  on  the  other  hand,  was  numerous 
and  composed  of  devoted  men.  No  danger  was,  therefore,  to  be  apprehen- 
ded. 

"  Well,  did  you  earn  much  money  ?"  the  capataz  continued. 

"  Yes,"  the  Indian  said  triumphantly ;  "  five  piastres  and'<  these  three  be- 

x" 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  55 

"  Why,  Jose,  you  are  a  rich  man." 

The  Hiaqui  smiled  doubtfully. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "  Tiburon  has  money." 

"Is  your  name  Tiburon  (shark)?"  the  capataz  said  distrustfully.  "  That  is 
an  ujrly  name." 

••  Why  so  ?  The  pale  faces  gave  that  name  to  their  red  son,  a"nd  he  finds 
it  good,  since  it  comes  from  them,  and  he  keeps  it." 

"  Is  your  village  for  from  here  ?" 

t;  If  I  had  a  good  horse  I  should  arrive  in  three  days.  The  village  of  my 
tribe  is  between  the  Gila  and  Guetzalli." 

"  Do  you  know  Guetzalli  ?" 

The  Indian  shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainfully. 

"  The  red-skins   know  all  the  hunting-grounds  on  the  Gila,"  he  said. 

At  this  moment  the  caravan  caught  up  the  two  speakers. 

"  Well,  Bias,"  Don  Sylva  asked,  "  Who  is  the  man  ?" 

"  A  Hiaqui  Indian.  He  is  returning  to  his  village,  after  earning  a  trifle  at 
the  Puerto." 

"  Can  he  be  of  service  to  us  ?" 

"  I  believe  so.     His  tribe,  he  says,  is  encamped  near  the  Gila." 

"  Ah!"  said  the  count,  drawing  nearer,  "does  he  belong  to  the  White 
Horse  tribe  ?" 

"  Yes,"  the  Indian  said. 

"  In  that  case  I  answer  for  the  man,"  the  count  said  quickly.  "  Those 
Indians  are  very  gentle;  they  are  miserable  beggars,  often  starving;  and  I 
employ  them  at  the  hacienda." 

"Listen!"  Don  Sylva  said,  tapping  the  red-skin's  shoulder  amicably. 
"  We  are  going  to  Guetzalli." 

«  Good." 

"  We  want  a  faithful  and  devoted  guide." 

k;  Tiburon  is  poor ;  he  has  only  a  poor  donkey,  which  cannot  march  so  quick- 
ly as  his  pale  brothers  drive  their  horses." 

"  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  that,"  the  haciendero  added.  "  I  will 
give  you  such  a  horse  as  you  never  mounted,  if  you  serve  us  honestly.  On 
arriving  at  the  hacienda,  I  will  add  ten  piastres  to  those  you  already  possess. 
Does  that  suit  you  ?" 

The  Indian's  eye  sparkled  with  jrreed  at  this  proposal. 

••  U'here  is  the  horse  '"'  he  a-ked. 

"  Here,"  the  capatax.  replied,  pointing  to  a  super!)  stallion  led  by  a  peon. 

Th«-  red-kin  looked  at  it  with  the  eye  of  a  connoisseur. 

"  Well,  do  you  accept  ?"  the  haciendero  said. 

«\ 

"  Then  get  off  your  donkey,  and  let  us  start." 

"I  cannot  abandon  my  donkey  ;  it  is  a  famous  brute,  which  has  done  m« 
good  service." 

"  That  need  not  trouble  you  :  it  can  follow  with  the  baggage  in  . 

The  Indian  pive  a  nod  of  assent,  but  made  no  further  reply.  In  a  few 
minutes  he  wa<  mounted,  and  the  caravan  continued  its  marc'  ;.:itaz 

alone  did  not  appear  to  place  any  great  confidence  in  the  guide  so  singularly 
met. 

"I  will  watch  him."  lie  said  in  a  low  v 

The  march  went  on  the  whole  day  without  any  fresh  incident,  and  the 
n  xt  day  they  reached  the  Ilio  (Jila.  The  banks  rf  this  river  contrast  by 
their  fertility  with  the  desolate  aridity  of  the  plains  that  surround  them. 
Don  Sylva's  journey,  thoucrn  recommenced  at  the  moment  when  the  sun,  ar- 
rived at  its  zenith,  p.Hirs  down  its  buniinjr  bonms  perpendicularly,  was  only 
an  agreeable  promenade  of  a  few  leagues,  b-.-ncath  the  dense  shade  of  tufted 
which  grow  with  an  amount  of  sap  unknown  in  our  climates. 


r6  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  when  the  travellers  saw  before  them  the  colony 
of  (iueY/alii,  founded  by  the  Count  de  Lhorailles,  and  which,  although  it 
only  lia«l  a  fow  months'  existence,  had  already  attained  a  considerable  size. 
This  colony  was  composed  of  a  hacienda,  round  which  were  grouped  the  la- 
borer.-,1 huts.  We  will  devote  a  few  words  to  it. 

Tin*  hacienda  was  built  on  a  peninsula  nearly  throe  leagues  in  circum- 
ference, covered  with  wood  and  pasture,  on  which  more  than  four  thousand 
he-ail  of  cattle  grazed  peacefully,  returning  at  night  to  the  parks  adjoining 
the  house,  which  was  surrounded  by  the  river,  forming  an  enceinte  of  natural 
fortresses.  The  tongue  ot  land,  not  more  than  eight  yards  in  \\idth,  attach- 
ing it  to  the  main  land,  was  commanded  by  a  battery  of  six  heavy  guns,  in 
its  turn  surrounded  by  a  wide,  wet  ditch. 

The  house,  surrounded  by  tall  embattled  walls,  bastioned  at  the  angles, 
was  a  species  of  fortress  capable  of  sustaining  a  regular  sie^e  with  the  eight 
guns  mounted  on  the  bastions  which  guarded  the  approaches.  It  was  corn- 
puM-,1  of  a  huge  main  building,  one  story  high,  with  a  terraced  roof,  having 
ten  windows  in  the  frontage,  and  flanked  on  the  right  and  left  by  two 
buildings,  running  out  at  right  angles,  one  of  which  served  as  a  magazine  for 
grain  and  maize,  while  the  other  was  occupied  by  the  capataz  and  the  nu- 
IIHTOUS  i'/itjdoyes  of  the  hacienda. 

Wide  steps,  furnished  with  a  double  iron  balustrade,  curiously  worked, 
and  surmounted  by  a  veranda,  formed  the  approach  to  the  count's  apart- 
ments, which  were  furnished  with  that  simple  and  picturesque  taste  which 
distinguishes  the  Spanish  farms  of  America. 

Between  the  house  and  the  outer  wall  was  a  vast  garden,  exquisitely  laid 
fut,  and  so  covered  with  bushes  that  at  four  paces'  distance  it  was  impossi- 
ble to  see  anything.     The  space  left  free  behind  the  farm  was  reserved  for 
the  parks  or  corrals  in  which  £he  animals  were  shut  up  at  night,  and  a  spe- 
•  ml,  in  which  the  mataitza  del  ganado,  or  slaughter  of  the 
performed  once  annually. 

thing  could  be  so  picturesque  as  the  appearance  of  this  white  house, 
whose  roof  could  be  seen  for  a  long  distance,  half  concealed  by  the  branches 
which  formed  a  curtain  of  foliage  most  refreshing  to  the  eye.  From  the 
windows  of  the  lirst  floor  the  eye  surveyed  the  plain  on  one  side  ;  on  the 
other,  the  Rio  Gila,  which,  like  a  wide  silvery  ribbon,  rolled  along  with  the 
most  capricious  windings,  and  was  lost  an  immense  distance  off  in  the  blue 
horizon. 

Since  the  time  when  the  Apaches  all  but  surprised  the  hacienda,  a  mirador 
hud  been  built  on  the  roof  of  the  main  building,  where  a  sentinel  had  been 
st.-tioned  day  and  night  to  watch  the  neighborhood,  and  announce,  by  means 
oi  a  bullock's  horn,  the  approach  of  any  stranger  to  the  colony.  Besides,  a 
post  of  six  men  guarded  the  isthmus  battery,  whose  guns  were  ready  to 
thunder  at  the  slightest  alarm. 

Thus  the  arrival  of  the  caravan  had  been  signalled  when  it  was  still  a  long 
distance  off,  and  the  count's  lieutenant,  Martin  Leroux,  an  old  African 
soldier,  was  standing  behind  the  guns  to  interroate  the  arrivals  so  soon  as 


.!»•;.-  were  within  hail.  Don  Sylva  was  perfectly  aware  of  the  regulations 
etablfohed  in  the  hacienda,  wliich  were,  indeed,  common  to  all  the  estab- 
isluuents  held  by  white  men;  for  at  these  frontier  posts,  where  people  are 
d  to  the  constant  depredations  of  the  ludians,  they  are  obliged  to  be 
incessantly  on  the  watch.  But  the  thing  the  Mexican  could  not  compre- 
hend was  that  the  count's  lieutenant,  who  muot  have  recognised  him,  did  not 
open  the  gates  immediately,  and  he  made  a  remark  to  that  effect. 

.e  would  have  done  wrong,"  the  cot:nt  replied.     "  The  colony  of  Guet- 

is  a  fortress,  and  the  regulations  must  be  the  same  for  -all  :  the  general 

welfare  depends  on  their  strict  and  entire  observation.     Martin   rcco-nised 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  57 

me  Ion:  ago,  T  :ru  o  >uvinrjd  ;  but  lie  niuy  supp  HI;  that  I  am  a  prisoner  of 
the  I':i  Sir.is  JIM  I  r.hat,  in  leiviur,  MI-J  a  >p:ir-ntiy  tive^they  intend  to  surprise 
the  colony.  153  a-'irj  1  t.'i.-it  m/ excellent  lieutenant  will  not  let  us  pass  till 
he  is  quite  certain  that  our  European  clothes  do' not  cover  red  s'.Jns." 

"  ()  i.  \-e- ! '  D->  i  Sylva  muttered  to  himself;  '•  that  is  true.  Tbe  Europe- 
ans foresee  everything.  They  HIV  our  masters." 

'i\ie  c.iiMY.111  was  no,v  not  inoiv  tlian  twenty  yar  Is  from  the  hacienda. 

"  I  tancv,"  the  con-it  ob<eive-:l,  "  that  if  we  do  not  wish  to  receive  a  show- 
er of  bullets  we  had  better  halt." 

k-  What  !''  sail  Do.i  Sylva  in  amazement ;  "they  would  fire  ?" 

'•  I  am  certain  of  it." 

Tli-  t\vo  me  i  clucke-l  their  horses  and  waited  to  be  challenged. 

li  Who  goes  there  ?"  ft  powerful  voice  shoated  in  French  1'roin  behind  tho 
battery. 

'•  Well,  what  do  yoM  think  of  it  now?"  asked  the  count  of  the  haciendero. 

':  It  is  perfectly  \Vo:iderf;il,"  rejoined  the  latter. 

"  Friend-;,"  the  count  answered.     "  Lhorailles  and  freedom  !" 

'•All  n<.r!it — open,"  the  voice*  commanded.  "Theyaie  friends.  Would 
that  we  often  received  such  visitors  !'' 

The  p?ous  lowered  the  drawbridge  (the  only  passage  by  which  the  hacien- 
da c.Mild  be  entered),  the  caravan  passed  over  and  the  drawbridge  was  imme- 
diately raised  after  them. 

••  Vo-i  will  excuse  me,  captain,"  Martin  Lcroux  said,  respectfully  approach- 
in  r  the  count,  "but,  although  I  recognised  yon,  we  live  in  a  country  where,  I 
think,  too  great  prudence  cannot  be  exercised." 

'•  You  have  done  your  duty,  lieutenant,  and  I  can  only  thank  yon  for  it. 
I  Live  you  any  news  ?" 

'•  Not  much.  A  troop  of  horse  I  sent  out  into  the  plain  discovered  a  de- 
serted liiv.  T  fincy  the  Indians  nro  prowling  round  us." 

"  We  will  be  on  our  jr:;.ird." 

"  Oh.  I  keep  good  watch,  especially  at  present,  for  the  month  U  drawing 
nigh  which  the  L'omanches  call  .-><>  audaciously  the  Mexican  moon.  I  should 
not  be  sorry,  if  they  dared  to  meddle  with  us,  to  give  them  a  lesson  which 
would  be  profitable  for  the  future." 

"  I  share  your  views  entirely.  Redouble  your  vigilance,  and  all  will  bo 
well." 

"  Have  you  no  other  orders  to  give  me  ?" 

«  No." 

'•  Then  T  will  withdraw.  You  know,  captain,  that  you  intrust  the  internal 
details  to  mo,  and  I  must  be  everywhere  in  turn." 

u  <:..,  lieutenant  ;  let  me  not  keep  you." 

The  ol  !  ilute'l  hi<  chief,  an  I  retired  with  a  friendly  nod  to  tho 

capataz,  who  followed  him  with  the  P-.MHH  and  bag-rage  nrilfs. 

The  count  led  his  guests  to  the  apartments  kept  for  vi>ito:  died 

them  in  c  >mfo'/tably-funiivicd  room-;. 

"  I?IMV  rest  yourself,  Don  Sylv.i,"  lie  said  ;  "you  and  Donna  Anita  must 
be  fatigue  I  with  your  journey.  To-morro\v,  if  you  permit  me,  we  will  talk 
about  our  busin 

u  Wlieuever  you  like,  my  friend." 

The  count  bowed  to  hiaguestaan  1  wit'idn-w.  Sin^c  his  mooting  with  his 
betrothed  he  had  iv>:  I  a  word  with  her.  In  the  courtyard  h?  found 

the  Ilinqui  Indian  smoking  and  ",v;ilkin;r,  la/.ily  around.  lie  went  up  to  him. 

"  Here,1'  In1  said,  ';  are  the  ten  pi-i-tros  ])r'»:nisfd  you." 

"  Thank-*/1  said  the  Indian  as  he  to  >k  them. 

"  Now,  wiiat  are  you  going  to  do  .'•' 

"Rest  myself  till* to-morrow  ;  then  join  the  men  of  my  tribe." 


58  THE    TIGER-SLAYEK. 

"Are  you  in  a  great  hurry  to  see  them  ?" 

-I  ?    Not  at  all." 

«  Stay  here,  then." 

-•  What  to  do?" 

-  I  will  tell  you  ;  perhaps  I  may  need  you  within  a  few  days." 

"Shall  I  be  paid?" 

"  Amply.    Does  that  suit  you  ?" 

•  res* 

'•  Then  you  will  remain  ?" 
"  I  will." 

The  count  went  away,  not  noticing  the  strange   expression  in  the  glance 
the  Indian  turned  on  him. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

A      MEETING      IN     THE      DESERT. 

ABOUT  three  musket  shots'  distance  from  the  hacienda,  in  a  thicket  of  no 
pals,  mastic  trees,  and  mesquites,  intermingled  with  a  few  mahogany  cedar? 
wild  cotton-wood  trees,  and  pines,  just  an  hour  before  sunset,  a  horse-man 
dismounted  ;  hobbled  his  horse,  a  magnificent  mustang,  with  fla-hing  eyes 
and  fine  chest ;  then,  after  turning  an  inquiring  glance  around,  probably 
Kit  isiied  with  the  profound  silence  and  tranquility  pervading  at  the  spot, 
he  made  his  arrangements  for  camping. 

The  man  had  passed  middle  life :  he  was  an  Indian  warrior  of  great  height 
-  (1  in  the  Comanche  costume  in  its  utmost  purity.     Although  he   ap- 
!  to  IK-  >ixty  years  of  age,  he  seemed  gi  ted  with   great  vigor,  and  no 
sign  of  decrepitude  could  be  traced  in  his   muscular  limbs  and  intelligent 
face  :  the  eagle's  feather  fixed  in  the  centre  of  his  .war-lock   allowed  him   to 
be  recognised  aa   a   chief.     This  man  was  Eagle-head,  the  Comanche  chief. 
After  laying  his  rifle  by  his  side  he  collected   dry  wood,  and   lit  a  fire  ; 
then  he  threw  several  yards  of  tasso  on  the  ashes,  with  several  maize  tortil- 
la^ ;  and  all  these  preparations  for  a  comfortable  supper  made  he  filled   his 
calumet,  crouched  near  the  fire,  and  began  smoking  with  that  placid  calm- 

bich  lu-viT  deserts  the  Indians  under  any  circumstances. 
Two  hours  thus  passed  peacefully,  and  nothing  disturbed   the   repose    the 
duel  was  enjoying.     Night  succeeded  day;  darkness  had  invaded  the  desert, 
and  with  it  the  silence  of  solitude  began  to  reign  in  the  mysterious   depths 
of  the  prairie. 

The  Indian  still  remained  motionless,  contenting  himself  with  turning 
ii'iw  and  then  to  hi*  horse,  which  was  gaily  devouring  the  climbing  peas  and 
the  young  buds  of  the  trees. 

Suddenly  Ka.ule-head  looked  up,  bent  forward,  and.  without  otherwise  dis- 

torbing  himself,  stretched  out  his  hand  to  his  rifle,  while  the   mustang  left 

II  eat  in-,  laid  back  its  cars,  and  neighed  noisily.     Still  the   forest  appeared 

as  calm  as  ever.     It  needed  all  an  Indian's  sharp  ear  to  have  heard  a  suspi- 

ci.ms  rustling  through  the  silence. 

the- end  of  a  moment  the   chiefs  frowning   brows   returned    to   their 

>f"l»T  iH)gition,  he  re-assumed  his   proper  posture,  and  lifting  his   two   fore- 

-  to  his  mouth,  imitated  with  rare  perfection,  for  two  or  three  minutes, 

harmonious  modulations  of  the  centzontle,  or  Mexican  nightingale:  the 

begun  eating  again. 

Only  a  few  minutes  passed  ere  the  cry  of  the  night  hawk  was  twice  heard 
in  the  direction  of  the  river 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  59 

Soon  after  the  sound  of  horses  became  audible,  mingled  with  the  cracking  of 
branches  and  the  rustling  of  leaves,  ami  two  mounted  men  made  their  ap- 
pearance. The  chief  did  not  turn  to  >ee  who  thevwere:  In-  had  probablv 
recognised  them,  and  know  that  they  alone,  or  at  any  rate  one  of  them. 
were  to  come  to  him  here. 

These  two  horn-men    were   Don   Louis   and   Belhumeur.     They  hobbled 
their    hur.M-s    by  the.    side  of  the    chiefs.    la\   dn\\  n    by  t he  Hi c,  and,  on    the 
Indian's  silent  invitation,  vigorously  attacked  the  supper  prepared  fur  them. 
They  had  left  the  Kancho  the  previous  evening,  and  ridden  without  t! 
of  a  moment  to  join  the  chief. 

Thfe  Count  do  Lhorailles  had  invited  them  at  the  pul<|ueria  to  join  his 
party,  but  Bclhuincur  had  declined  the  oiler.  Not  knowing  for  what  pur- 
pose the  Indian  chief  had  appointed  to  meet  him,  he  did  not  care  to  mix  up 
a  stranger  in  his  friend's  affairs.  Still,  the  three  men  had  parted  on  ewl- 
lent  term-,  and  the  count  pressed  Don  Louis  and  the  Canadian  to  pay  him  a 
visit  at  Ciuetzalli,  an  offer  to  which  they  had  replied  evasively. 

Singular  is  the  effect  of  sympathy.  The  impression  the  count  produced 
on  the  two  adventurers  was  so  unfavorable  for  him,  that  the  latter,  while  re- 
plying with  the  utmost  politeness,  had  employed  the  greatest  reserve,  car- 
rying their,.prudenee  to  such  an  extent  as  to  leave  him  ignorant  of  their  na- 
tional Uy,  by  continuing  to  converse  in  Spanish,  though  at  the  first  word  he 
uttered  they  recognised  him  to  be  a  Frenchman. 

When  they  had  ended  their  meal  Belhumeur  filled  his  pipe,  and  put  out 
his  hand  to  take  up  a  coal. 

"  Wait,"  the  chief  said  sharply. 

This  was  the  first  word  the  Indian  uttered  ;  up  to  that  moment  the  three 
men  had  not  interchanged  a  syllable.     Belhumeur  looked  at  him. 
-  I  I'm  !"  he  said,  "  what  is  the  matter  now  ?" 

'•  1  do  not  know  yet,"  the  chief  answered.     "I   have   heard   a  suspicious 
rustling  in  the  bushes-  and  at  a  great    distance    off,  to  leeward  of  us,  seve- 
ral bulfaloes    | leacefully  grazing  took  to  flight  without  any  apparent   cause." 
"  Hum  !''  the  Canadian  went  on,  "  that  is  growing  serious.     What  do  you 
think,  Louis  r 

"  In  the  desert,"  the  latter  replied  slowly,  ''everything   has  a   cause — no- 
thing happens    by  accident.     1    believe    we   had    better   be    on   our   guard. 
Stay  !"  lie  added,  as  he  rai>ed  his  head,  and  pointed  out  to  his  friends    - 
ral  birds   that    passed    rapidly  away  over   thorn.     "Have    you  often    so< 
this  hour  a  flight  of  condors  soaring  in  the 
Tin-  chief  shook  his  head. 

'•Then-  is  -omethiiig  the  matter,"  he  muttered:  "the  dogs  of  Apaches 
are  hunt'r 

••'•'\"\<  p..»ibl««,"  Belhumeur  said. 

"Before  all,"  the  Frenchman  observed,  "let  us  put  out  the  fir.-;  il>  gleam, 
slight  a>  it  is  mi-ht  betray  B8," 

lli>  companions  followed  his  advice,  and   the   fire  -::e<l  in   a 

second. 

"My  brother,  the  paleface,   N  prudent."  the  <  hfof  .-aid  courteously.     "He 
knows  the  desert.      I  am  happy  to  see  him  by  my  BJ 
Don  Louis  thanked  the  chief  courteously. 

••  And   now,"  Belhumeur  went  <>i\.  -.visible — no  visible 

clanger  threatens  us;  so  let  us  hold  a  couneil.     The  chief  had  the  first  scene 
of  peril :  it  is,  therefore,  his  place  to  toll  us  what  he  ob>orvod." 

The  Indian  wrapped  him  up  in  his  fiv.-sada  ;  the  three  men  drew  closer, 
so  as  to  be  able  to  speak  in  a  whi>per.  and  the  council  commenced. 

"  Since  sunrise  this  morn  in-,"  Ka.de-head  >ai«l,  ••  I  have  boon  marching  in 
the  desert.  I  was  anxious  to  reach  the  place  of  meeting,  and  proceeded  in 


THE   TIUER   SLAYER 

v*  OMKC.      AH  liflH  ti»  W*4   1 


gbMMi«r¥MiltaMii 


•yjyi  ••» 


l  «» 


WMk»^^riM»^  «•• 


Tin.  1  i.. 


i  lut  ohjwu  iitigbt  U»c  beta  diftlingu*a»cd  fora  gt*mt  i 

i.iivf  aii%tiili..  .of  vl 

•Inn 

t,  ami  ttfetctl    wit  a  IU-   |M(KIM.VM>   ciiararUtUt. 

.«•  dcaort  va»  ao  intcMt  that  I 

.  !«••!   Lll*i«jii>.i  tin    uati-r,  t  |*-bbl« 
.  ai  oxiliiilttHto  Itmtv  Wfcl 

1,  tlw  mMttiajuf  I  Mr  u«U  uinj;  m»  H  I 


rw  mrtt  ixtuaiiird  u»uiM«ilr««  and  wa 
tab  li»»  ft'igvr  CM  tb*  ti  <£grr  uf  UK?  nflc 
•  cumiUjr*t«  t 

<«t  bU aWWrr,  a*   be  UMiited   totbci 

id  ibuvMwttl  aajKaUMl  Uw  iatrla«  «f  lit* 
ag  aJtMg. 

:  Ctncy  Uiai   U  vbat  we  a 


ITVBQUaj|ttfWM^ 

arabfoAaj 


<•-...    vtoiavti  .1  Miftri   i«     t 
•:••  14*  Nfvalrd. 

UtAr  («tii  bmU/  w  »aar 
HIP>  AhiMklvrvdi,  aail  a  nan  l»t«i 
an  wk  trvr, 


i     ,     M,  \  .    .:, 

U  Mid  lit  a  knr  «ukv,  Uwwgb  noi 


foam  t  br  watar,  awl 


t  • 
brr  »iftak«  tu..  liM4dl>.M  br  aOd.    -  In  tbc  daarrt  a  i:, 

on  earth  i 
•*•  rxerfMiutt  c4  \uwr  wmnons«Lu  »tv  pn 

.U  Uu*  lujui  w  -  '•arklk-Bi 

\tcaii  WM  ibe  ttr 

Itv    A,'»  tu    a 

ir  final  anaiiauiiiuiU  to  nut 

it  i  | . 
nil  aUcnuanU,  bul  1  do  iiol  wiab  tUc  »ti^ 

«•  pum?  tb«  other  bald  oat  to  bi 

.  •  aMd  cuWI> . 
: 
••  A  «  •(  a  wutnan  to  waalo  hU  wunk.     Wbat  my  U\ 

pa«l»caM 
.« /** 


62 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER'. 


The  Mexican  repressed  with  difficulty  a  sign  of  disappointment. 
"  Then,"  he  said,  "  You  have  not   warned   your  warriors  ?     When   I   give 
the  order  you  will  not  attack  the  hacienda  ?" 
"  The  Black  Bear  has   warned  his  warriors.     He  will   attack  the  pale 

••  \Vh:it  did  you  say  this  moment  ?  I  confess  that  I  do  not  comprehend 
you,  chief." 

«  Because  the  pale-face  will  not  comprehend.  The  Black  Bear  will  attack 
the  hacienda,  but  on  his  own  account." 

"  That  was  agreed  between  us,  I  fancy." 

"  Yes;  but  the  Black  Bear  has  seen  the  singing-bird.  His  hut  is  empty: 
he  wishes  to  place  in  it  the  young  pale  virgin." 

"  Scoundrel !"  the  Mexican  shouted  in  his  wrath  ;  "  you  would  betray  me 
in  that  way  ?" 

"  How  have  1  betrayed  the  pale-face  ?"  the  Indian  replied,  still  perfectly 
calm.  "  He  offered  me  a  bargain ;  I  refused  it.  I  see  nothing  dishonest  in 
that." 

The  Mexican  bit  his  lip  with  rage  ;  he  was  caught,  and  could  make  no  re- 
ply. 

"  I  will  revenge  myself,"  he  said,  stamping  his  foot. 

"The  Black  Bear  is  a  powerful  chief  j  he  laughs  at  the  croaking  of  the 
ravens.  The  pale-face  can  do  nothing  against  him." 

AVith  a  movement  swift  as  thought,  the  Mexican  rushed   on  the  Indian, 
I  him  by  the  throat,  and,  drawing  his  dagger,  raised   it   to  strike   him. 
But  the  Apache  carefully  watched  the  actions  of  his  opponent :  by  a  move- 
ment no  less- swift  he  freed  himself  from  his  grasp,  and  with  one   bound  was 
out  of  reach. 

"  The  pale-face  has  dared  to  touch  a  chief"  he  said  in  a  hoarse  voice  ;  "  he 
shall  die." 

The  Mexican  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  seized  the  pistol  in  his  girdle. 

It  is  impossible  to  say  how  this  scene  would  have  ended,  had  not  a  new  in- 
cident happened  to  change  its  features  completely.  From  the  same  tree  in 
which  the  Mexican  had  been  hidden  a  few  moments  previously,  another  in- 
dividual suddenly  fell,  rushed  on  the  chief,  and  hurled  him  to  the  ground  be- 
fore he  could  make  a  gesture  to  defend  himself,  so  thoroughly  was  he  off  his 
guard. 

"By  Jove!"  Belhumeur  muttered  with  a  stifled  laugh,  "there  must  be  a 
legion  of  devils  in  that  tree." 

The  Mexican  and  the  man  who  had  come  so  luckily  to  his  help  had  secure- 
ly tied  the  Indjan  with  a  reata. 

" Now  you  are  in  my  power,  chief,"  the  Mexican  said,  "and  you  will  be 
obliged  to  consent  to  my  terms." 

The  Apache  grinned,  and  uttered  a  shrill  whistle. 

At  this  signal  fifty  Indian  warriors  appeared,  as  if  they  had  sprung  out 
of  the  ground,  and  that  so  suddenly,  that  the  two  white  men  were  sur- 
rounded in  instant  by  an  impassable  circle. 

•  1  HMU-C  !"  Belhumeur  said  in  an  aside,  "  that  complicates  matters.  How 
will  thw  get  out  of  that?" 

;•  And  we  ?"  Louis  whispered  in  his  ear. 

Canadian  replied  by  that  shrug  of  the  shoulders  which  signifies  in  all 
:<-.  -  \\c  must  trust  in  Heaven,"  and  began  looking  again,  interested 

ae  WM      the  highest  degree  by  the  unexpected  changes  of  scene. 

the  Mexican  said  to  his  companion,   "hold  that  scoundrel 
d  at  the  least  suspicious  movement  kill  him  like  a  do«-." 
*  culm.  Dun  .Martial,"  the  lepero  answered,  pulling  from  his  vaquera 
•t  a  knife,  whose  share  blade  flashed  with  a  bluish  tinge  in  the  moon's 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  63 

"  What  decision  does  the  Black  Bear  come  to  ?"  the  Tigrero  went  on,  ad- 
dressing the  chief  lying  at  his  fret. 

"  The  life  of  a  chief  belongs  tothee,  dog  of  the  pale-faces  :  take  it  if  thou 
darest !"  the  Apache  replied  with  :i  smile  of  contempt. 

"I  will  not  kill  you:  not  beams.;  I  urn  afraid,  for  1  know  not  such  a  feel- 
ing," the   Mexican  said,   "  but  because  I  disdain  to  shed  the  blood  of  an\ 
enemy  who  is  defenceless,  even  if  he  be,  like  you,  an  unclean  coyote." 

"Kill  me,  I  say,  if  thou  canst,  but  insult  me  not.  Hasten!  for  my  war- 
riors may  lose  patience,  sacrifice  thee  to  their  wrath,  and  thou  mightiest  die 
unavenged." 

"  You  are  jesting ;  you  know  perfectly  well  that  your  warriors  will  not 
move  an  inch  so  long  as  I  hold  you  thus.  I  propose  to  offer  you  peace." 

"  Peace  !"  the  chief  said,  and  his  eyes  flashed.     "  On  what  conditions  ?" 

"  Two  only.     Cuchares,  unfasten  the  reata,  but  watch  him  closely." 

The  lepero  obeyed. 

"  Thanks,"  the  chief  said  as  he  rose  to  his  knees.  "  Speak  j  I  am  listen- 
ing— my  ears  are  open.  What  are  these  conditions  ?" 

"  First,  my  comrade  and  myself  will  be  free  to  retire  whither  we  please." 

"  Good,  and  next  P 

"  Next,  you  will  pledge  yourself  to  remain  with  your  warriors,  and  not 
return  to  the  hacienda  in  the  disguise  ^ou  have  assumed  for  the  next  twen- 
ty-four hours." 

;'  Is  that  all  ? 

"  It  is  all." 

•  Listen  to  me  in  your  turn,  then,  pale-face.  I  accept  your  conditions, 
but  I  must  tell  you  mine." 

"  Speak/' 

••  I  will  not  re-enter  the  hacienda  save  with  the  eagle  feather  in  my  war- 
tuft,  at  the  head  of  my  warriors,  and  that  before  the  sun  has  thrice  set  be- 
hind the  lofty  peaks  of  the  mountains  of  the  day." 

"  You  are  boasting,  Apache  ;  it  is  impossible  for  you  to  enter  the  hacienda 
>ave  by  treachery." 

••  We  shall  see  ;"  and  smiling  with  a  sinister  air,  he  added,  "  the  singing- 
bird  will  go  into  the  hut  of  an  Apache  chief  to  cook  his  game." 

The  Mexican  shrugged  his  shoulders  contemptuously. 

-Try  to  rake  the  hacienda  and  carry  off  the  maiden,"  he  said. 

;>  1  will  try.     Your  hand." 

"  Here  it  is." 

The  chief  turned  to  his  warriors,  holding  the  Tigrero's  hand  clasped  in  his 
own. 

••  Hrotliers  !"  he  said  in  a  loud  voice,  and  with  an  accent  of  supreme  maj- 
••  tni-  pale-face  is  the  friend  of  the  Black  Bear — let  no  one  nn.lesi  him." 

The  warriors  bowed  iv>p<-<:t  fully,  and  fell  back  to  the  right  and  left,  to 
ior  the  two  white  men. 

u  Farewell!"  the  Jilack  Hear  .-aid,  saluting  his  enemy.  "In  twenty-four 
hours  I  .-hall  be  on  your  trail." 

••  Vtm  ar«-  mi-taken.  d<>i<  uf  an  Apache,"  Don  Martial  replied  disdainfully  j 
••  I  shall  he  on  v«>urs." 

u  Uood  !  we  are,  then,  certain  of  meeting,"  the  P.laek   1 

And  he  retired  with  a  slow  and  linn  step,  followed  by  his  warriors,  whose 
footfalls  soi .11  died  away  in  the  depths  of  the  forest. 

••  On  in v  faith,  Don  Martial,"  the  lepero  said,  "  I  believe  that  you  were 
wrong  to  let  that  Indian  «i  -o  easily.'3 

The  Tigreio  shrugged  his  shoulders. 

••  Were  we  not  obliged  to  get  out  of  the  wasp's  nest  into  which  we  had 
thrust  our  heads?"  he  said.  ••  J5aa  !  it  is  only  put  oft'  for  u  time.  Let  us 
go  and  find  our  horses." 


04  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

'•On-,1  moment  if  vou  will  grant  it  me,"  Belhumeur  said,  leaving- his*  hiding 
i\;ni'  inr  ]«>iitely  with  his  two  comrades. 

r    Chares   said,  pulling  out    his   knife   again,  while  Don 
M.ir:i.  i  Cuolly  '•"<•:<(•'!  his  pistols. 

•  •  i  .  . '  i  '.ii,  liici'o,"  Beiiiuuieur  said  quietly,  "I  fancy  you  can  see  plainly 
cm >  r 

••  j,i  K  t-.i,  vi  1.1  are  not  at  all  mistaken.     Three  men  who  have  been  unseen 

wini.--  -    of  the   scene   you  ended  so  bravely — throe  men  who  held  them- 

\y  to   come  to  vo-ir  aid  iiad  it  been  necessaiT,  :md  who  now  offer 

to  1,1 1  '  •  '•  ,::nuo;i  cause  with  you,  to  prevent  the  plunder  of  the  hacienda  by 

S,     Docs  that  suit  you  ?' 

••  I  :;.  <.ri>"iid.-,"  the  Tl-iivro  said.  "I  must  know  first  what  interest 
ur.n'>  \o  i  to  act  in  this  manner." 

••  T  .at  of  being  agreeable  to  you  in  the  first  })lace,"  Belhumeur  replied 
politely,  "aud  next,  thi'desire  to  save  the  scalps  of  the  poor  wretches  men- 
uivd  bv  t.io^e.  infernal  red-skins." 

••  In  r  ;,;•(.  <••<{-('  I  heartily  accept  your  offer." 

'•  11  •  :<MI  1  enough,  then,  to  follow  us  to  our  camping-ground,  that  we  may 
(15 M"i--.  t.  e  |'i:iii  of  the  campaign." 

Si->  .1  a<  i.'  ic  fires  noticed  tuat  the  mon  who  prj>e-it.e'l  th3in<elve5  ~so 

sti  ,  i       ,        re  really  friends,  he  returned  his  knife  to  his  hoot,  and  went  in 

:  ie  iiorsi.-s,  which  had  been  left  a  short  distance  off.     lie  arrived  at 

.••.diii£  the  two  horses,  and  tlje  five  men  proceeded  together  to 

t 

;•  ?.'.ut\  to  Bon  Martial ;  "Voa  have  made,  yourself 

an  iiM.il.i-vihle  enemy  this  niirht.  ]f  you  do  not  make  haste  to  kill  him,  one 
day  <•'.•  :n:.»t!ier  the  iliac!;  Bear  will  kill  you.  The  Apaches  never  pardon  an 
Insult.'1 

it  ;  so  1  shall  take  my  precautions,  yon  mav  be  sure." 

'•  That  i.>  yo:ir  concern.  1'ei-haps  it  would  have  been  better  to  get  rid  of 
him.  ;:'  the  ris\  of  what  mig-ht  have  happened  afterwards." 

••  lio'v  could  L  iuiauine  1  had  friends  so  near  me?  Oh,  had  I  but  known 
it  !v 

••  '-Vi  i!   jt  is  of  no  use  crying  over  spilt  milk." 

••  I '  >  you  iK'lu've  that  he  will  keep  scrupulously  the  conditions  he  accepted  ?" 

••  \  "  i  d*>  n  it  know  the  .Black  .Bear  ;  he  is  a  man  of  noble  sentiments  and 
has  a  w.-i\-  of  hi,  own  for  understanding  points  of  honor.  You  saw  that  du- 
rinir  yo  ir  i".niiv  di<icussion  lie  disdained  to  play  any  trickery  :  his  words  were 
alwavs  {rank." 

u  i'1:(>y  XVt,,v.» 

'•  lit-  c.-rtain,  therefore,  that  he  will  keep  his  promise." 
T  te    ounvovafttion  wa^   interrupted.     Don   Martial  had   suddenly  become 
pensive.     The  Apache's  menaces  gave  him  a  good  deal  to  think  about.     The 

camp  was  reached,  and  Eagle-head  immediately  set  to  work  rekindling  the 
fire. 

"  \N  hat  are  you  about?"  Belhumeur  observed  to  him.  "You  will  reveal 
our  p;v  tenc  •." 

••  N".';  the  Indian  said,  shaking  his  head.     "The  Black  Bear  has  retired 
'  hey  are  far  nway  at  present ;  so  we  need  not  take  use- 

un  ci       .<  \  again.     The  five  men  crouched  round  it  joyfulty, 

-  inoking. 

."  tlie  ( 'ar.  ulian  presently  said.     "  Had  it  not  been  for  the  cx- 
Ineas  you  displayed  I  do  not  know  ho\v  you  would  have  es- 
ctped." 


THE     TIGER- SLAY  Ell.  C5 

"Let  us  now  soo  how  be*t  {•>  IMi  th.-  plan-  of  thesv.'  red  devils,"1  said  the 
Mexican. 

'•  It  is  very  Minpkv'  Louis  inh  r;.o-e  1.  -'One  of  us  wid  proceed  to-morrow 
to  the  hacienda,  to  warn  the  o\\  ner  of  u  hat  l.a.i  passed  t!.i»  ni^ht.  lie  will 
bo  on  iiis  -u  ii-.l  an<l  all  will  be  rijrlit." 

'•  Yes.  I  believe  those  are  the  best  mean*,  and  we  will  emplov  them.'' 

"Five  men  are  as  nothing  again*!  five,  hundred,"  observed  KajJe-head  ; 
"  we  must  warn  the  pale  lac  •-." 

'•  T.iar.  i-  as-mcdly  the  plan  we  must  f  >l!o\v.''  the  Ti^ivro  rr.narked  ;  "but 
which  of  us  will  consent  to  u.o  to  the  hacienda  /  Xeitiier  n;v  comrade  nor 
myself  c.m  do 

••  I  fa  i  -y  there  is  some  love  story  hidden  under  all  tl/i  ndinn  ob- 

pei-ved  cmininiily.     ''I  can  understand  t:;at.   \,>;i  wo;:id  !i.,d  a  dil'icultv  in — " 

'•  \VhatiHedoffnrtlier  diseu.^ion  ? '  Louis  inteiTuj^ted.  '•  \\'itti  tomor- 
row's dawn  I  will  g-  to  the  hacienda  ;  1  undertake  to  explain  to  tin-  owner 
all  the  dangers  that  menace  him  in  their  fuiiesi  dei:iii>." 

"That  is  agreed  <>n,  then,  and  all  is  settled,''  Belimmenr  >;>i'l. 

••Then,  as  S(MIII  as  our  horses  have  rested,  my  comrad-.  -.-If  will  re- 

turn to  (i  nay  mas.'' 

"  Xo,  you  will  not,  if  you  please,"  the  Frenchman  objected.  "  I  fancy  it 
is  proper  tluit  you  should  know  the  result  of  the  mission  1  undertake,  fur  it 
concern-!  you  even  more  than  us.  1  suspect " 

The  Mexican  repressed  a  lively  movement  of  annoyance. 

*•  You  are  rijrlit,"  he  replied  ;  *•  I  did  not  thiu\  of  ti;at.  I  will  therefore 
await  yor.r  ri-t/rn."' 

Tl»e  Inmt.ers  interchanged  a  few  more  remarks,  tlu-n  wrnp-ped  themx-lves 
in  their  blankets,  lay  down  on  the  trround  and  >pee:lily  fell  ;i-leep.  A  deep 
Kilence  fell  on  the  clearing,  which  was  but  dimly  lighted  by  the  ivddi.-h  ra\s 
of  the  expirjnjjj  fire.  The  adventin-er.s  had  been  asleep  about  two  hours, 
when  the  br.mche.s  of  a  shrub  were  gently  parted  an  1  a  m;rn  ma  le  iii.s  ap- 
jieai-ance.  He  stopped  for  a  moment,  seemed  to  be  lisleninjr,  tin- 
without  the  slijjlitest  so'iud  toward  the  spot  whore  the  Ti^re.-o  \\a-  ;.  : 

It  would  have  been  easy  to  rec-o,ni -e   the   Black   Bear  by  tin-  li. 
lire.     The  Apache  chief  plucked  his  scalpin;r-knile  from  his  girdle,  an  1  laid  it 
gentlj  on  the  Ti^rero's  cliest ;  then  casting  a  pirtin-.?  .u'l.i  iCtt  aroun  I.  ( •>  con- 
vince himself  that  the  five  men  slept,  lie  retired   with  the  same  p 
and  soon  disappeared  in  the  shrub,  which  closed  upon  him. 


C  II  A  P  T  E  II    X  . 

BEFORE      THE      ATTACK. 

AT  the  lirst  cry  of  the  niaukawis — that  is  to  say,  at  sunrise — ti 
urers  aw-  ' 

The  nijrlit  had  been  calm.     '•  -!-pt  with  noth'm-  t<>  disturb  their 

.  by  the^abondant  dew  which   had  iilUvcd  t!:r 

bl.-xnkets  d'-.rin.i:  their  sleep,  they  hurrvdiy  r<  -  re  llu1  cir 

their  b;ood  and  warn:  i--d  limbs. 

lent  Pon  M  •  ujid. 

The  M'.-xiran  ]>irked  it  u>> 

terror  as  he  shewed  it  to  i  is  rirnp-mion--.    T  found 

was  n  \nil'e.  who 

AVh:.;  -   iiiy 


CG 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER 


Eacle-head  seized  it,  and  examined  it  carefully. 
Will.  T  IK-  said  in  surprise,  "  the  Black  Bear  has  been  with  us  during  our 


hunters  could  not  refrain  from  a  movement  of  alarm. 
••  1  1  is  impossible,"  Belhunieur  observed. 

Indian  shook  his  head  as  he  displayed  the  weapon. 
bfc,"  he  continued,  "  is  the  Apache  chief's  scalping  knife  ;  the  'totem' 

Craved  on  the  hilt." 
••'Ti>  true.'' 

-  The  IJlsick  Bear  is  a  renowned  chief.     His  heart  is  large  enough  to  con- 

.  world.  Obliged  to  fulfil  the  engagements  he  has  made,  he  wished  to 
prove  to  his  enemy  that  he  was  master  of  his  life,  and  that  he  would  take  it 
whenever  lie  thought  proper.  That  is  the  meaning  of  this  knife  placed  on 
the  chest  of  the  '  Yori  '  during  his  sleep."  ^ 

The  u'heaturers  were  confounded  by  so  much  boldness.     They  shuddered 

ut  the  thought  that  they  had  been  at  the  mercy  of  the  chief,  who  disdained 

to  kill  them,  and  contented  himself  with  defying  them.     The  Mexican  espe- 

,i  shudder  in  spite  of  his  courage.     The  Canadian  was  the  first  to 

ei  his  coolness. 

"  Canario  !"  he  exclaimed,  "  this  Apache  dog  did  right  to  warn  us.    Now 
we  w  ill  be  on  our  guard." 

••  Hum!"  Cuchares  said,  passing  his  hands  through  his  thick  and  matted 
luiir.  ••  I  have  not  the  least  desire  to  be  scalped." 

"  Bah  !"  Belhumeur  said,  "  people  sometimes  recover." 

"  That  is  possible  ;  but  I  don't  care  to  make  .the  attempt." 

••  And  now  that  day  has  quite  broken,"  Louis  observed,  "I  fancy  the  time 
iias  arrived  for  me  to  go  to  the  hacienda.     What  do  }7ou  say,  gentlemen  ?" 

••  \Ve  have  not  a  moment  to  lose,  if  we  wish  to  foil  the  enemy's  p  ans,"said 
l)on  Maitial  in  support  of  his  suggestion. 

.  ;is  we  have  to  take  certain  measures  which  it  would  be  as 
well  to  determine  as  soon  as  possible,"  Belhumeur  remarked. 

The  Indian  and  the  lepero  contented  themselves  with  giving  their  assent 
through  a  nod. 

-  Now  let  us  arrange  a  meeting-place,"  Louis  went  on  to  say.     "  You  can 

lit  lor  me  here,  as  the  Indians  know  where  to  find  you." 
"  Yes,"  Belhumeur  replied  thoughtfully,  u  but  I  do  not  know  the  country 
where  we  now  are,  and  I  shouid  be  quite'troubled  to  find  a  fitting  spot." 

u  I  know  one,"  Eagle-head  said.     "I  will  lead  you  to  it  :  our  pale  brother 
will  join  us  ;i;:;iin  there." 

••  Very  go  >'\,  but  for  that  purpose  I  must  know  the  spot." 

"My  brother  need  not  trouble  himself  about  that.     When  he  leaves  the 

il'in  I  shall  be  near  him." 
••  Very   .,.,>d—  all  right.     Good-by  till  we  meet  again." 

.died  his  horse  and  started  off  at  a  gallop  in  the  direction  of  the 

.a.  which  was  about  three  gunshots  from  the  camping-ground. 

The  Count  dc  Lhorailles  was  walkinaabout  anxiously  in  the  hall  of  the 

main  body  of  the  building.     In  spite  of  himself  his  meeting  with  the  Mexi- 

gnpied  his  mind,     lie  wished  to  have  a  frank  explanation  with  Donna 

i  in  her  father's  presence,  which  should  dissipate  his  doubts,  or  at  least 

•  iim  the  key  of  the  mystery  that  surrounded  the  affair. 

Another  circumstance  dulled  his  humor  and  redoubled  his  alarm.     At  day- 

break 1  )K  .jro  Leon,  his  lieutenant,  told  him  that  the  Indian  guide  brought  home 

them  the  previous  day  had  disappeared   during  the  night,  and  left  no 

ie  position  wtus  becoming  serious.     The  Mexican  moon  was  approacli- 

ide  was  evidently  an  Indian  spy,  ordered  to  inquire  into  the  ha- 

-th  and  the  means  of  surprising  it,     The  Apaches  and  Coman- 


THE 'TIGER-SLAYER.  e? 

clies  could  not  be  far  off  :  !.ey  were  already  on  the  watch  in  the  tall 

prairie  {rra>s,  awaiting  the  favorabli-  to  rush  on  their  implacable  foes. 

The  count  did  not  conceal  from  himself  that  if  his  position  was  critical, 
he  was  the  main  cause  of  it.  ]nve-ti-d  by  the  government  with  an  important 
command,  especially  charged  with  the  protection  of  the  frontier  against  In- 
dian invasions,  he  had  not  yet  made  a  move,  and  had  in  no  way  tried  to  ful- 
fil the  commission  he  had  not  merely  accepted  but  solicited.  The  Mexican 
moon  commenced  in  a  month  ;  before  that  period  he  must  strike  a  decisive* 
blow,  which  would  inspire  the  Indians  with  a  wholesome  terror,  prevent 
them  combining  and  thus  foil  their  plans. 

The  count  had  been  reflecting  for  a  long  time,  forgetting  in  his  anxiety  tl;o 
guests  he  had  brought  to  his  house,  after  whom  he  had  not  yet  asked,  when 
his  old  lieutenant  appeared  before  him. 

«  What  do  you  want,  Martin  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Excuse  me  for  disturbing  3rou,  captain.  Diego  Leon,  who  is  on  guard  at 
the  isthmus  battery  with  eight  men,  has  just  sent  me  to  tell  you  that  a  man 
wishes  to  see  you  on  a  serious  matter," 

"  What  sort  of  a  man  is  he  ?" 

"  A  white  man,  well  dressed,  and  mounted  on  an  excellent  horse." 

«  And  he  said  nothing  further  ?" 

"  He  did,  for  he  added  this  :  '  You  will  say  to  the  man  who  commands  you 
that  I  am  one  of  the  men  he  met  at  the  Rancho  of  San  Jose.'" 

TDC  count's  face  grew  suddenly  serene. 

"  Let  him  come  in,"  he  said  :  "  'tis  a  friend." 

The  lieutenant  withdrew.  So  soon  as  he  was  alone  the  count  recommen- 
ced his  walk. 

"  What  can  this  man  want  of  me  ?"  he  muttered.  "  When  I  asked  his 
friend  and  himself  to  accompany  me  here  they  both  refused.  WThat  reason 
can  have  caused  such  a  sudden  change  in  their  plans  ?  Bah  !  what  is  the 
use  of  addling  one's  brains  ?"  he  added,  on  hearing  a  horse's  footfall  re-echo- 
ing in  the  inner  patio.  "  I  shall  soon  know." 

Almost  immediately  Don  Louis  appeared,  led  by  the  lieutenant,  who,  on  a 
fiijin  from  the  count,  at  once  disappeared. 

'•  What  happy  accident,"  the  count  said  graciously,  "procures  me  the 
honor  of  a  risit  I  was  so  far  from  expecting  ?" 

Don  Louis  politely  returned  the  salutation,  and  replied, 

"•  It  is  no  happy  accident  that  brings  me.  God  grant  that  I  may  not  be 
the  harbinger  of  misfortune  !" 

These  words  made  the  count  frown. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  senor?"  he  asked  in  anxiety.  "  I  do  not  understand 
you." 

"  You  will  soon  do  so.  But  speak  French,  if  you  have  no  objection ;  we 
shall  understand  each  other  more  easily,"  he  said,  giving  up  the  Spanish 
which  he  had  hitherto  employed. 

"  What!"  the  count  exclaimed  in  surprise,  "you  speak  French?" 

"Yes,"  Louis  said,  "  for  I  have  the  honor  of  being  your  fellow  country- 
man, although,"  he  added  with  a  suppressed  sigh,  "I  have  quitted  our  coun- 
try for  more  than  ten  years.  It  is  always  a  great  pleasure  to  me  to  be  able 
to  speak  my  own  language." 

The  expression  of  the  count's  face  completely  changed  on  hearing  these 
words. 

"  Oh  !"  he  continued,  "  permit  me  to  press  your  hand,  sir.  Two  French- 
men who  meet  in  this  distant  land  are  brothers  ;  let  us  momentarily  forget 
the  spot  where  we  are,  and  talk  about  France — that  dear  country  from  which 
we  are  so  remote  and  which  we  love  so  much." 

"Alas,  sir  1"  Louis  replied,  with  suppressed  emotion,  "I  should  be  happy 


f 

$8  THE   TIGEK-SLAYER. 

to  foruet  for  a  few  minutes  what  surrounds  us,  to  summon  up  the  recollec- 
tions of  our  common  country.     Unfortunately  the  moment  is  a  grave  one  ; 
^•rs  threaten  you,  and  the  time  we  would  thus  lose  might  produce 
tastropbe." 

«Yoq  > tar tie  me,  sir.  What  is  happening  ?  What  have  you  so  terrible 
to  announce  to  me  ?" 

••  Di-1  I  not  tell  you  that  I  was  a  messenger  of  evil  tidings?" 

•  No  mutter.  When  told  by  you  they  will  be  welcome.  In  the  situation 
in  which  I  am  placed  in  this  desert,  must  I  not  ever  expect  misfortune  ?" 

"  I  hope  to  be  able  to  help  you  in  warding  off  the  danger  that  now  hangs 
ever  you  ?" 

"  Thanks  for  your  fraternal  conduct.  Now  speak,  I  am  listening  to  you. 
Whatever  you  may  tell  me,  I  shall  have  the  courage  to  hear  it." 

Don  Louis,  without  revealing  to  the  couut  his  meeting  with  the  Tigrero,  as 
had  been  agreed  on,  told  him  how  he  had  overheard  a  conversation  between 
his  guide  and  several  Apache  warriors  ambushed  in  the  vicinity  of  the  hacien- 
da, and  the  plan  they  had  formed  to  surprise  the  coiony. 

"  And  now,  sir,"  he  added,  "  it  is  for  you  to  judge  of  the  gravity  of  this 
news,  and  the  arrangements  you  will  hrfve  to  make,  in  order  to  foil  the  plans 
of  the  Indians." 

"  I  thank  you,  sir.  When  my  lieutenant  told  me,  a  few  moments  prior  to 
your  arrival,  of  the  disappearance  of  the  guide,  I  immediately  saw  that  I  had 
to  do  with  a  spy.  What  you  now  report  to  me  converts  my  suspicions  into 
certainty.  As  you  say,  there  is  not  a  moment  to  lose,  and  I  will  at  once 
think  over  the  necessary  arrangements." 

He  walked  to  a  table  and  struck  a  bell  sharply.     A  peon  entered. 

"The  first  lieutenant,"  he  said.     In  a  few  minutes  the  latter  arrived. 

"  Lieutenant,"  the  count  said  to  him,  "  take  twenty  men  with  you,  and 
scour  the  country  for  three  leagues  round.  I  have  just  learned  <that  Indians 
are  concealed  near  here." 

The  old  soldier  bowed  in  reply,  and  prepared  to  obey. 

'•  An  instant,"  Louis  exclaimed,  signing  him  to  stop,  "  one  word  more." 

"  Eli  ?"  Martin  Leroux  said,  turning  round  in  amazement,  "  you  are  talking 
French  now." 

"  As  you  hear,"  Louis  answered  with  a  smile. 

"  You  wished  to  make  a  remark,"  the  count  asked. 

"  I  have  lived  in  America  a  very  long  time.  My  home  has  been  the  desert, 
and  I  know  the  Indians,  whom  I  have  learned  to  rival  in  craft.  If  you  allow 
mq  I  will  give  you  some  advice,  which,  I  fancy,  may  be  useful  to  you  under 
present  circumstances." 

"  By  Jove  !"  the  count  exclaimed ;  "  pray  speak,  my  dear  countryman. 
Your  advice  will  be  very  advantageous  to  us,  I  feel  assured." 

At  this  moment  Don  Sylva  entered  tne  room. 

"All!"  the  count  continued,  "come  hither,  my 'friend.  We  have  great 
need  of  you.  Your  knowledge  of  Indian  habits  will  prove  most  -useful  to  us." 

"  What  has  happened?"  the  haciendero  asked  as  he  bowed  courteously  to 
all  present. 

"  We.  are  threatened  with  an  attack  from  the  Apaches." 

"Oh,  oh  !  that  is  serious,  my  friend.     What  do  you  propose  doing?" 

"1  do  not  know  yet.  I  had  given  Don  Martin  orders  to  scour  the  neigh- 
borhood ;  but  this  gentleman  appears  to  be  of  a  different  opinion." 

The  caballero  is  right,"  the  Mexican  answered,  bowing  to  Don  Louis; 

bqJL  in  the  first  place,  are  you  certain  about  this  attack  ?" 
Tii is  gentleman  came  expressly  to  warn  me." 

':  Then  there  can  be  no  further  doubt.  We  must  make  the  necessary  ar 
rangements  as  quickly  as  possible.  What  is  the  caballero's  opinion  ?" 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  69 

"  He  was  about  to  ;_:ivc  it  at  tin*  moment  you  came  in." 

"Then  pray  do  not  let  iue  di.-turb  your  conference.     Speak,  sir.'* 

Don  Louis  bowed  and  took  the  word. 

"  Caballero  !"  lie  bi  -i;an,  turning  to  Don  Sylva,  "  what  I  am  about  to  say  is 
addressed  principally  to  the  French  sniop-s.  who,  accustomed  to  European 
warfare  and  in  the  white  mode  of  lighting,  are,  I  am  convinced,  ignorant  of 
Indian  ta> 

"  'Tis  true,"  the  count  observed. 

"  Bah  !"  Leroux  .-aid,  twirling  his  long  moustaches  with  great  self-sufficien- 
cy, "we  will  learn  them." 

"Take  care  you  do  not  do  .<«•  at  your  own  expense,"  Don  Louis  continued. 
"Indian  war  is  entirely  one  of  stratagems  and  ambushes.  The  eneniv  who 
attacks  you  never  forms  in  line;  he  remains  constantly  concealed,  employing 
all  means  to  conquer,  but  principally  treachery.  Five  hundred  Apache  war- 
riors, commanded  by  an  intrepid  chief,  would  defeat  in  the  prairie  your  best 
Holdiers,  whom  thev  would  decimate,  while  not  giving  a  chance  for  retali- 
ation." 

"  Oh,  oh  !"  the  count  muttered,  "  is  that  their  only  way  of  fighting  ?" 

"  The  only  one,"  the  haciendero  said  in  confirmation. 

"  Hum  !''  Leroux  remarked,  "I  fancy  it  is  very  like  the  war  in  Africa." 

••  N..t  n  much  as  you  suppose.  The  Arabs  let  themselves  be  seen,  while 
ttye  Apaches,  I  repeat  to  you.  only  show  themselves  in  the  utmost  extremity." 

"Then  my  plan  of  pushing  forward  a  reconnoissance " 

"Is  impracticable  for  two  reasons:  either  your  horsemen,  though  sur- 
rounded by  enemies,  will  not  discover  one  of  them,  or  they  will  be  attracted 
into  an  ambush,  wheie,  in  spite  of  prodigies  of  valor,  they  will  perish  to  the 
la>t  man." 

••  All  that  this  gentleman  says  is  most  perfectly  true :  it  is  easy  to  see 
that  he  has  a  great  experience  of  Indian  warfare,  and  has  often  measured 
himself  with  Lt<H<,x  bracus." 

"That  experi-nce  tjo<t  my  happiness.     All  those  I  loved  were  massacred 
by  these  ferocious  enemies,"     Don  Louis    replied  sorrowfully.     "  Fear  the 
same  fate  if  you  do  not  display  the  greatest  prudence.     1  know  how  repug- 
nant it  is   to  the  chivalrous  character  of  our  nation  to  follow  such  a  co;, 
but  in  my  opinion  it  is  the  only  one  that  offers  any  chances  of  salvation." 

'  \Ve  have  here  Keren!  women,  children.* and  your  daughter  before  all, 
Don  Sylva.  We  nn:-t  absolutely  shelter  her  from  all  danuer;  if  po^ibk-, 
spare  her  the  slightest  alarm.  I,  therefore,  accept  this  •rtMitleman's  views, 
and  am  determined  to  act  with  the  greatest  circum>piction.'' 

"  1  thank  you  for  my  daujrhter  and   rnyx-lf." 

"And  now,  sir,  as  we  are  already  indebted  to  you  for  such  good  aci  , 
complete  your  task.  In  my  place,  what  would  you 

"My    advi'-e    i>   as     follows,73      Louis     answered     .-cri»usly.        ••  Ti:e    A]>- 
aches  will  attack    you  for  certain  reasons  1    know,  and    which  it  is   unii' 
sary  to  tell  you.     They  make  a  point  of  honor  of  t:  ..f  that  nttark. 

Hence  intrench  y«>u;-selve-  hei-'-a^  well  as  you  can.  You  have  a  considerable 
garrison  composed  of  tried  men  ;  con.-equeiitly,  nearly  all  the  chances  are  in 
your  favor." 

'•  1  have  one  bunded  and  seventy  resolute  Frenchmen,  who  have  all   1 
soldi 

"  Hehind  good  walls,  and  well  armed,  they  are  more  than  you  want." 

"  Without  counting  ion  :  to  pursuing  the  Indians,  and 

whom  I  brought  with  me,''   l>on  Syl\:i  i-emarked. 

u  \re  those  men  here  at  this  moment?"  Loins  asked  sharply. 

«  Yes,  sir." 

"Oh  !  that  simplifies  the  question  materially.  If  you  will  believe  me,  the 
Indians  have  no»v  everything  to  fear  instead  of  you." 


70     *  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  Explain." 

''  It  is  evident  that  you  will  be  attacked  from  the  river.  Perhaps,  in  or- 
der to  divide  your  forces,  the  Indians  will  make  a  feigned  attack  from  the 
side  of  the  isthmus  ;  but  the  point  is  too  strongly  defended  for  them  to  at- 
tempt to  carry  it.  I  repeat,  then,  all  the  enemy's  efforts  will  be  directed  on 
the  side  of  the  river." 

"  I  would  call  your  attention  to  the  fact,  sir,"  the  lieutenant  said,  "  that 
at  this  moment  the  river  is  rendered  unnavigable  by  thousands  of  trees  torn 
from  the  mountains  by  the  storms,  and  which  it  bears  along  with  it." 

"  I -know  not  whether  the*river  is  navigable  or  not,"  Don  Louis  replied 
firmly,  "  but  of  one  thing  I  am  certain,  that  the  Apaches  will  attack  you  on 
that  side." 

"  In  any  case,  and  not  to  be  taken  by  surprise,  two  of  the  guns  will  be  re- 
moved from  the  isthmus  battery,  leaving  four  there,  which  are  more  than 
sufficient,  and  laid  so  as  to  enfilade  the  river,  care  be  taken  to  mask  them. 
You  will  also,  Leroux,  mount  a  culverin  on  the  platform  of  the  mirador, 
whence  we  shall  command  the  course  of  the  Gila.  Go  and  have  these  orders 
executed  at  once."  / 

The  old  soldier  went  out  without  any  reply,  in  order  to  carry  out  the 
commands  of  his  chief. 

i '  You  see,  gentlemen,"  the  count  then  said,  "  that  I  hasten  to  profit  by 
the  counsels  you  are  good  enough  to  give  me.  I  recognise  my  utter  inexpe- 
rience of  this  Indian  warfare,  and  I  repeat  that  I  am  happy  at  being  so  well 
supported." 

"  This  gentleman  has  foreseen  everything,"  the  haciendero  said;  "like 
him,  I  believe  that  the  house  is  most  exposed  to  the  river  front." 

"  A  last  word,"  Don  Louis  continued. 

"  Speak,  speak,  sir." 

c:  Did  you  not  say,  caballero,  that  you  brought  with  you  forty  peons,  ac- 
customed to  Indian  warfare,  and  that  they  were  still  here  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  said  so,  and  it  is  perfectly  true." 

"  Very  good.  I  believe — and  be  good  enough  to  take  it  as  &  simple  ob- 
servation, caballero —  I  say  I  believe  that  it  would  be  a  master-stroke,  which 
would  insure  you  the  victory,  to  place  your  enemies  between  two  fires." 

"Indeed  it  would,"  the  count  exclaimed;  "  but  how  to  do  it  ?  You  your- 
self said,  only  a  moment  ago,  that  it  would  be  the  height  of  imprudence  to 
send  out  a  scofating  party." 

"  I  said,  and  I  repeat  it,  the  grass  and  woods  are  at  this  moment  filled 
with  eyes  fixed  on  the  hacienda,  who  will  let  no  one  pass  out  unnoticed." 

«  Well  ?" 

"  Did  I  not  tell  you  that  this  war  was  one  of  stratagems  and  ambushes  ?' 

"  You  did;  but  I  do  not  understand,  I  confess,  what  you  are   driving   at." 

"  It  is  however,  excessively  simple ;  you  will  understand  me  in  a  few 
words." 

"  I  much  desire  it." 

"  Senor  caballero,"  Don  Louis  went  on,  turning  to  Don  Sylva,  "  do  you  in- 
tend to  remain  here  ?" 

"  Yes ;  for  certain  private  reasons  I  must  remain  some  time  here." 

"I  have  no  intention,  be  assured,  senorrto  interfere  in  your  private  af- 
fairs. So  you  remain  here  '*" 

"  Yes." 

"  Very  good.  Have  you  among  your  peons  a  devoted  man  on  whom  you 
can  count  as  on  yourself?31 

"  Cascaras !    I  should  think  so.     I  have  Bias  Vasquez." 

"  Would  you  be  gooU  enough  to  tell  me  who  this  Bias  is,  as  I  have  not 
the  honor  of  his  acquaintance  ?" 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  71 

1  He  is  my  capata/.  and  I  can  trust  to  him  as  to  myself  in  matters  of  dan- 
ger." 

•  •client!     All  is  ;r«»iu£  on  famously,  then."      • 

"  I  really  cannot  make  you  out,"  the  count  said. 

••  Y..U  >hull  M-e."  said  L<.uis. 

"  I  have  been  trying  to  do  so  for  the  last  half  hour." 

••  four  <-a[  ata/.  t«.  whom  you  will  give  your  instructions,  will  put  him-elf 

at  the  head  of  his  peons    within   an    hour,  and    o-tcn>ihly  take   the  road  to 

mas  ;  but,  as  soon  as  he  has  gone  two  or  three  leagues  to  a  point    we 

shall  settle  on,  he  will  halt.     The  rest  will  he  the  business   of  myself  and 

friends." 

"  Oh  !  I  understand  your  plan  now.  The  peons  hidden  by  you  will  at- 
tack the  Indians  in  the  rear  so  soon  as  the  action  has  commenced  between 
and  them  us." 

«  That  is  it." 

"  But  the  Apaches  ?  Do  you  believe  they  will  allow  a  troop  of  white 
men  to  retire  without  harassing  them?" 

"  The  Indians  are  too  shrewd  to  oppose  them.     "What  good  would  it  do  to 
attack  a  body  of  men  who  have  no  Im^-rap;  ?     The   fight   would   not  profit 
them,  but  cause  their  position  to  be  discovered.     No,  no,   be  easy,  caballero, 
they  will  not  stir:  they  have  too  great  an  interest  in  remaining  invisible." 
d  what  do  you  intend  to  do  ?" 

"The  Indians  certainly  saw  me  come  in  this  direction;  they  know  I  'am 
here.  If  I  went  out  with  them  it  would  betray  all.  I  shall  go  away  alone 
as  I  crime,  and  that  immediately." 

"  The  plan  is  so  simple  and  well  arranged  that  it  must  succeed.  Receive 
our  thanks.  >ir.  and  IK-  kind  enough  to  tell  us  your  name,  that  we  may  know 
the  man  to  whom  we  are  indebted  for  so  great  a  service." 

""To  what  end,  sir?" 

••  I  join  my  entreaties,  caballero,  to  those  of  my  friend,  Don  Gaetano,  in 
order  to  induce  you  to  reveal  the  name  of  a  man  whose  memory  will  be 
eternally  engraved  on  our  hearts."  * 

Don  Louis  hesitated,  tho-— h  unable  to  account  to  himself  for  the  reason 
that  made  him  do  so.  He  t\  It  a  repugnance  to  give  up  his  incognito  as  re- 
spected the  count.  Thetuo  UK  ii.  however,  pressed  him  so  politely,  that 
having  n<>  serious  iva-on  to  offer  for  the  niaintainance  of  his  incognito,  he  al- 
lowed him-elf  to  be  vanquished  by  their  entreaties,  and  consented  t- 
his  naiue. 

«  Caballeros,"  he  at  length  said,  •   i  <  'ount  Louis  Kdward    Maximo 

de  Prebois  Crance," 

"  We  are  friends,  I  trust,"  De  Lhorailles  said,  holding  ont  his  hand  to 
him. 

"What  I  have  dom>  i<  a  proof  of  it.  I  think,  sir,"  the  other  replied  with  a 
bow,  but  not  taking  the  offered  hand. 

"I  thank  you,"  the  count  went  on.  without  appearing  to  notice  I.ou;- 
pujrnance.     "  Do  you  intend  to  leave  us  soon  ?" 

"  I  must  leave  you  to  the  urgent  business  you  have  on  hand.  If  you  will 
allow  me,  I  will  take  mv  leave  at  once." 

"  Not  breakfast  in-,  at"  least?" 

"  You  will  excuse  me,  but  time  presses.  I  have  friends  I  have  now  left 
for  some  hours,  and  who  must  be  alarmed  by  my  lenirtlu  in-d  ahx-nce." 

••  As  they  know  yon  arc  at  my  house,  that  is  impossible,  sir,"  the  count 
said,  somewhat  piqued. 

"They  do  not  know  that  I  arrived  here  without  accident." 

"  That  is  different ;  then  I  will  not  delay  you.  Once  again  I  thank  you, 
sir." 


72  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  I  have  acted  in  accordance  with  my  conscience ;  you  owe  me  no  thanks." 

The  three  men  quitted  the  hall,  and  proceeded  towards  the  isthmus  bat- 
tery, taking  of  indifferent  matters.  About  half  way  they  met  Don  Bias,  the 
capataz.  Don  Sylva  made  him  a  sign  to  join  them,  and  when  he  was  near 
them  explained  to  him  in  two  words  the  events  that  were  preparing,  and  the 
part  he  would  have  to  play. 

"  Voto  a  Brios  !"  the  capataz  exclaimed  joyously.  "  I  thank  you,  Don 
Sylva,  for  this  good  news.  We  shall  have  a  row  at  last,  then,  with  those 
Apache  dogs  !  Carai  !  they  '11  see  some  fun,  I  swear." 

"  I  trust  entirely  to  you,  Bias." 

"  But  at  what  place  must  I  await  this  caballero  ?" 

"  That  is  true  :  we  have  not  fixed  the  place  of  meeting." 

"About  three  leagues  from  here,  on  the  Guaymas  road,  at  a  place  where 
the  road  makes  a  bend,  there  is  an  isolated  hill  called,  I  think,  El  Pan  de 
Azucar  :  you  can  ambush  there  without  any  fear  of  discovery.  I  will  join 
you  at  this  spot  with  my  friends." 

"  That  is  agreed.     At  about  what  hour  ?" 

"  I  cannot  say  for  certain  :  that  must  depend  on  circumstances." 

A  few  minutes  later  Don  Louis  was  riding  back  to  the  prairie,  while  the 
Count  de  Lhorailles  and  the  two  Mexicans,  made  preparations  for  an  active 
defence  of  the  colony. 

"  It  is  strange,"  Don  Louis  muttered  to  himself  as  he  galloped  on,  "  that 
this  man  who  is  my  countryman,  and  for  whom  I  shall  risk  my  life  ere  long, 
inspires  me  with  no  sympathy." 

Suddenly  his  horse  shied.  Roughly  startled  from  his  reverie,  the  French- 
man looked  up. 

Eagle-head  stood  before  him. 


CHAPTER    XI. 

THE      MEXICAN      MOON. 

AFTER  his  visit  to  the  hunters  the  Black  Bear  set  out,  at  the  head  of  his 
warriors,  to  proceed  to  a  neighboring  island,  known  by  the  name  of  Choke- 
Heckel,  which  was  one  of  the  advanced  Apache  posts  on  the  Mexican  fron- 
tier. He  reached  the  isle  at  daybreak.  At  this  spot  the  Gila  attains  its 
greatest  width  :•  each  of  the  arms  formed  by  the  island  is  nearly  two  miles 
wide.  The  island  which  rises  in  the  middle  of  the  water,  like  a  basket  of 
flowers,  is  about  two  miles  long  by  half  a  mile  wide,  and  is  one  immense  buu- 
quet,  exhaling  the  sweetest  perfumes,  and  the  melodious  songs  of  the  birds 
which  congregate  in  incalculable  numbers  on  all  the  branches  of  the  trees  by 
which  it  is  covered. 

Illumined  on  this  day  by  the  splendid  beams  of  a  flashing  sun,  the  place 
had  a  strange  and  unusual  appearance  which  had  a  powerful  effect  on  the 
imagination.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach  over  the  island  and  the  two  banks 
of  the  Gila  could  be  seen  tents  of  buffalo  hide,  or  huts  of  branches  leaned 
against  each  other,  and  whose  strange  colours  wearied  the  sight.  Numerous 
canoes  made  of  horse-skins  sewed  together,  and  mostly  round,  or  else  hollow- 
ed out  of  trunks  of  trees,  traversed  the  river  in  every  direction.  The  war- 
riors dismounted  and  set  their  horses  free,  which  immediately  proceeded  to 
join  a  number  of  others. 

The  chief  went  towards  the  huts  before  which  feather  flags  and  the  scalps 
of  renowned  warriors  fluttered  in  the  breeze,  passing  through  the  women  who 
were  preparing  the  morning  meal.  But  the  Black  Bear  had  been  recognised 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  73 

Immediately  on  his  arrival,  and  :ill  <_r"t  out  of  his  way  with  respectful  bows. 
A  thin^  no  Kuroj.rnn  could  credit  •-  - -t  all  'lii'lians,  without  e\e.-p- 

ti-in.  pay  to  tlu-ir  cli'n •!>.  Antony  those  who  have  kept  up  the  manners  of 
their  fort  fathers,  and,  disdaining  KurojH^an  civil  isation,  have  continued  to 
wander  ahout  the  prairies  as  free  men,  this  respect  is  changed  into  fanati- 
ci>m,  aim. -i  into  adoration.' 

The  gold  fillet  adorned  with  two  buffalo  horns,  placed  on  the  Black  Bear's 
brow,  rau-M-d  him  to  he  ivcomii-rd  by  all.  and  the  I'm-lic-t  joy  was  evinced 
on  his  pa--  .  .  I!  at  length  reached  the  rivers  bank.  On  'arriving  there 
he  made  a  >ign  to  a  mun  fishing  a  short  distance  off  in  a  canoe  ;  the  latter 
Bed  up.  and  the  chief  j-a.^.-d  over  to  the  inland.  A  hut  of  branches 
had  lii-en  prepared  for  him.  It  is  probable  that  invisible  sentinels  were 
watch  ing  f«»r  his  arrival,  for  the  moment  he  set  foot  on  land,  a  chief  called 
the  Little  Panther  presented  himself  before  him. 

"The  great  chief  is  welcome  among  his  brothers,"  he  said,  bowing  courte- 
ously i.e!  ;v  the  Black  Bear.  "  Has  my  father  had  a  good  journey  ?" 

':  I  have  had  a  good  journey,  I  thank  my  brother." 

"  If  my  father  consents  I  will  lead  him  to  the  jacal  built  to  receive  him." 

"  Let  us  go,"  the  chief  said. 

The  Little  Panther  bowed  a  second  time,  and  guided  the  chief  along  a 
path  formed  through  the  shrubs.  They  soon  arrived  at  ajacal,  which,  in  the 
mind  of  the  Indians,  offered  the  ideal  of  what  was  comfortable,  through  its 
.-i/.e,  the  brilliancy  of  the  colours  with  which  it  was  painted,  and  its  cleanli- 


••  .My  father  is  at  home,"  the  Little  Panther  said,  respectfully  raising  the 
fressad'i  (blanket)  which  closed  the  jacal,  and  falling  back  to  let  the  Black 
Bear  pa>s.  The  latter  entered. 

"My  brother  will  follow  me,"  he  said.  N. 

The  Little  Panther  walked  in  behind  him,  and  let  the  curtain  fall.  This 
did  not  in  any  way  differ  from  that  of  the  other  Indians.  A  fire  burn- 
ed in  the  centre.  The  Black  Bear  made  a  sign  to  the  other  chief  to  sit  down 
on  a  buffalo  skull.  He  then  chase  one  for  himself,  and  sat  down  near  the 
fire.  After  a  moment's  silence,  employed  by  the  two  chiefs  in  smoking 
gravely,  the  Black  Bear  addrc—  <,-d  the  Little  Panther  :  — 

"Are  the  chiefs  of  all  the^tribes  of  our  nation  collected  on  the  island  as  I 
order 

"They 
When  will  they  come  to  my  jacal  ?" 

' 


"/I'liat  depends  on  my  father.     They  await  his  good  pleasure." 

The  Black  Bear  began  smoking  again  silently.  Along  period  was  thus 
spent. 

••  Nothing  new  has  happened  during  my  absence  ?"  the  Black  Bear  asked, 
shaking  the  :ush  out  of  his  calumet  on  his  thumb. 

"  Three  chiefs  of  the  praiii.-  Comam-hes  have  arrived,  sent  by  their  nation 
to  treat  with  the  Apac!. 

«  Wah  !"  the  chief  said.     "  Are  they  renowned  warriors  ?" 

"  They  have  many  wolfs'  tails  on  their  moccasins.     They  must  be  valiant." 

The  Black  Bear  nodded  his  head  in  affirmation. 

"  One  of  them,  it  is  said,  is  the  Jester,"  the  Little  Panther  continued. 

"Is  my  brother  certain  of  what  he  says?"  the  chief  asked  sharply. 

"The  Comanche  warriors  refused  to  give  their  names  when  they  learned 
the  absence  of  my  father.  They  answered  it  was  well,  and  that  they  would 
await  his  return." 

"  Good  !  they  are  chiefs.     Where  are  they  ?" 

"  They  have  lighted  a  tire,  round  which  they  are  camping." 

"Time  is  precious.  My  brother  will  warn  the  Apache  chiefs  that  I  await 
them  at  the  council  fire." 


74  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

The  Little  Panther  rose  without  replying,  and  quitted  the  jacal. 

For  about  an  hour  the  Indian  chief  remained  alone  buried  in  thought :  at 
the  end  of  that  time  the  sound  of  several  approaching  men  could  be  heard 
outside.  The  curtain  was  raised  by  the  Little  Panther,  who  walked  in. 

"  Well  ?"  the  Black  Bear  asked. 

"  The  chiefs  are  waiting." 

"Let  them  come  in." 

The  chiefs  made  their  appearance.  They  were  ten  in  number ;  each  had 
put  on  his  best  ornaments,  and  all  wore  their  war  paint.  They  entered  si- 
lently, and  ranged  themselves  silently  round  the  fire,  after  silently  saluting 
the  great  chief,  and  kissing  the  hem  of  his  robe. 

As  soon  as. all  the  chiefs  had  assembled  in  the  interior  of  the  toldo,  a  troop 
of  Apache  warriors  drew  up  outside,  to  keep  off  the  curious,  and  insure  the 
secrecy  of  the  deliberations.  The  Black  Bear,  in  spite  of  his  self-mastery, 
could  not  refrain  from  a  movement  of  joy  at  the  sight  of  all  these  men,  who 
were  entirely  devoted  to  him,  and  by  whose  help  he  felt  certain  of  accom- 
plishing his  projects. 

"  My  brothers  are  welcome,"  he  said,  inviting  them  by  a  sign  tp  take  seats 
on  the  buffalo  skulls  ranged  round  the  fire,  "  I  was  waiting  them  impatiently." 

The  chiefs  bowed  and  sat  down.  Then  the  pipe-bearer  entered  and  pre- 
sented the  calumet  to  each  warrior,  who  drew  two  or  three  puffs  of  tobacco. 
When  this  ceremony  was  over,  and  the  pipe-bearer  had  departed,  the  delib- 
erations began. 

"  Before  all,"  said  the  Black  Bear,  "  I  must  give  you  an  account  of  my 
mission.  The  Black  Bear  has  completely  fulfilled  it ;  he  has  entered  the 
hut  of  the  white  men ;  he  has  thoroughly  examined  it ;  he  knows  the  num- 
ber of  pale-faces  that  defend  it ;  and  when  the  hour  arrives  for  him  to  lead  his 
warriors  there,  the  Black  Bear  will  know  how  to  find  the  road  again." 

The  chiefs  bowed  with  satisfaction. 

"This  great  cabin  of  the  whites,"  the  Black  Bear  continued,  "is  the 
only  serious  obstacle  we  shall  find  on  our  road  in  the  new  expedition  we  are 
undertaking." 

"  The  Yoris  are  dogs  without  courage.  The  Apaches  will  give  them  petti- 
coats, and  make  them  prepare  their  game,"  the  Little  Panther  said  with  a 
grin. 

The  Black  Bear  shook  his  head. 

"  The  pale-faces  of  the  great  cabin  of  Guetzalli  are  not  Yoris,"  he  said. 
"  A  chief  has  seen  them— they  are  men.  "  Nearly  all  of  them  have  blue 
eyes  and  hair  the  color  of  ripe  maize  ;  they  seem  very  brave — my  brothers 
must  be  prudent." 

"  Does  not  ray  father  know  who  these  men  are  ?"  a  chief  inquired. 

"The  Black  Bear  does  not  know.  He  was  told  down  there  near  the 
Great  Salt  Lake,  that  they  inhabited  a  country  very  far  from  here,  toward 
the  rising  sun  :  that  is  all." 

"  These  men  have  no  trees,  nor  fruit,  nor  buffaloes  in  their  own  country, 
that  they  come  to  steal  ours." 

"  Tl^e  pale-faces  are  insatiable,"  the  Blacfc  Bear  replied.  "  They  forget 
that  the  Great  Spirit  has  only  given  tliQm,  like  other  men,  one  mouth  and 
two  hands.  All  they  see  they  covet.  The  Wacondah,  who  loves  his  red 
sons,  let  them  be  born  in  a  rich  country,  and  has  covered  them  with  his 
gifts.  The  pale-iaces  are  jealous,  and  seek  continually  to  rob  and  dispossess 
tnein  j  but  the  Apaches  are  brave  warriors:  they  can  defend  their  hunting- 
grounds,  and  prevent  them  being  trampled  by  these  vagabonds,  who  have 
come  from  the  other  side  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake  on  the  floating  cabins  of 
the  Great  Medicine." 

The  chiefs  warmly  applauded  this  harangue,  which  expressed  so  well  the 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

» 

sentiments  that  affected  them.   .  -  t.y  with  which  : 

mate  :  -tlr.it  conquering ;  and  invading  race,  which  con- 

stantly dri  irther  into  the  desert,  not  even  leaving  them  the  requi- 

site >[•  .the  ;'.n<l  live  quietly  after  their  f;ishi<m. 

••  The   great  nation  of  the   Comam-hcs  of  the    Lukes,  that  which  is  called 

.led  tu  our  nation  three    renowned  war- 
rior-.     I    know  DOl    th.-    object    .if  this    embassy,  which,  however,  must    be 
you,  chiefs  of  my  n^'  them,  ami  ad- 

mit t  ;iie  calumet  of  peace  round  our  c..im«-il  II 

••  Mv  h.ther  is  u  very  wi>e  warrior,"  the  Little  Panther  replied  :  >-  h.- 
when  In-  likes,  divine  the  most  hidden  thoughts  in  the  heart  of  hi-  cm  • 
What    he  does  will  be  well  done.     T!ie   chiefs    of  his    nation    wi!! 
happy  to  re.ulate  their  conduct  l>y  the  counsels  he  may  deign  to  giv  them'.'" 

Tii«-  ir  threw  a  glance  round  thea.--t  mbly,  a*  if  to  a.ouiv  himself 

that  the  Little  Panther  had  truly  expressed  the  general  will.     The  member.- 

of    the    council  silently  bowed  their   heads    in    acquiescence.       The    chief 

smiled  proudly    on  seeing  himself  so  appreciated  by  his  companions,  and  ad- 

"le.  Panther,  said, — 

"  Let  my  ;  .:e  Comanche  chiefs,  be  introduced." 

pronounced  with  a  majesty  equal  to  that  of  an  Euro- 
pean king  -itting  in  parliament. 

The  ulier  went  out  to  execute  the  order  he  had  received.     Dur- 

ing L  id  rather  long,  not  a  word  was  exchanged  between 

the  c!  !  on  buffalo  skulls,  with  their  elbows  on  their  knees,  and  their 

chins  on  the  palm  of  their  hand  ;  they  remained  .motionless  and  silent,  ap- 
1  into  deep  thought. 

The  Little  Panther  at  length  returned,  preceding  the  Comanche  warriors. 
On  their  entry  the  Apache  chiefs  rose  and  saluted  them  ceremoniously.  The 
('••munehos  ivturned  the  salutation  with  no  less  courtesy,  but  without  any 
other  response,  and  waited  till  they  were  addn 

were  young  and  finely  built  j  they  bad  a  manial 

bearing,  a  free  glance,  and  thoughtful  brow.     Dressed  in  their  national  cos 
tume,  with  heads  proudly  raised,  and  hands  stemmed  in  their  side-,  the)'  had 
something  noble  and    loyal  about  them  which    aroused   sympathy.     <>ne  of 
them  socially,  the  youngest  of  the  three — he  was  hardly  live  aud-t  -.venty — 
inn-it    be  a  by   appearances:  the  stern    lines  of  his 

countenance,  the   brilliancyNrf  his  glance,  the  and  majesty  of  his 

bearing,  can-  d  him  to  be  recognised  at  the  first  glance  as  a  eho-i  n  man. 

Hi-  name  wa.^  tin-  •  i.  a>  might  IK-   gUOOWd  from  the   tuft    of  eon- 

dor  feathers  passed  through  his  war-lock,  he   w:is  .UK-   «•!'  the  principal  . 
•he  chief-  I  v  arrivals,  while  not  appearing  to  i 

them,  that  profoundly  inquisit;.  to  so  eminent  a 

the  India:  .though   they  might  i    the 

jrlanc  :  them,  did  not  make  a  sign,  nor  allow  a  movement 

them,  indicating  that  they  knew  th  to  be  the  object  of  attention  to 

all  piv- 

Maehiav-1.  author  of  the '•  Prince"  though  he  was,  compared  \\ith  the 
redmen,  was  only  a  child  in  matters  of  policy.  T!ICM-  simple  they 

are  called  by  t!io<e  who  do  not  know  them,  are  the  cle\  most  cun- 

ning diplomat  i-t  nee. 

After  an  iiM.u>t'<  delay  the  Black  Bear  took  a  step  toward  the  Comanche 
chiefs,  bowed  to  them,  and  holding  out  his  right  hand  palm  upwards,  said  : — 

"I  am  happy  to  receive  beneath  my  cabin,  in  the  mid-t  of  my  people,  my 
brothers,  the  Comanches  of  th>  I  BK68.  They  will  take  their  place  at  the 
council  fire  and  smoke  with  their  brothers  the  calumet  of  pe:, 

"Be  it  so,"  the  Jester  replied  in  a  stern  voice.  ••  Are  we  not  all  children 
of  Wacondah  ?" 


76  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

• 

And,  without  adding  another  word,  he  took  his  seat  with  the  other  chiefs 
at  the  council  fire,  side  by  side  with  the  Apaches.  The  conversation  was  bro- 
ken off  again,  for  every  one  was  smoking.  At  length,  when  the  calumet 
bowls  contained  only  ashes,  the  Black  Bear  turned  with  a  courteous  smile  to 
the  Jester. 

"  My  brothers,  the  Comanches  of  the  Lakes,  are  Doubtlessly  hunting  the 
buffalo  not  far  from  here,  and  then  the  thought  occurred  t'o  them  to  visit 
their  Apache  brothers.     I  thank  them  for  it." 
The  Jester  bowed. 

*'  The  Comanches  of  the  Lakes  are  far  away,  chasing  the  antelopes  on  the 
Del  Nato.  The  Jester,  and  a  few  devoted  warriors  who  accompany  him,  are 
alone  encamped  on  the  hunting-grounds." 

"  The  Jester  is  a  chief  renowned  on  the  prairie,"  the  Apache  graciously  re- 
marked. "  The  Black  Bear  is  happy  to  have  seen  him.  So  great  a  warrior 
as  my  brother  does  not  act  thus  without  some  plausible  motive." 

"  The  Black  Bear  has  guessed  it,  The  Jester  has  come  to  renew  with  his 
Apache  brothers  the  narrow  bonds  of  a  loyal  friendship.  Why,  instead  of 
disputing  a  territory  to  which  we  have  equal  Claims,  should  we  not  divide  it 
between  us  ?  Should  the  red  men  destroy  each  other  ?  Would  it  not  be 
better  to  bury  the  war- hatchet  by  the  council  fire  at  such  a  depth  that,  when 
an  Apache  met  a  Comanche,  he  would  only  see  in  him  a  well-beloved  brother? 
The  pale-faces,  who  each  moon  encroach  on  our  possessions  more  and  more, 
wage  a  furious  war  against  us  j  then  why  should  we  help  them  by  our  intes- 
tine dissensions  ?" 

The  Black  Bear  rose,  and,  stretching  forth  his  arm  with  authority,  said  : — 
"  My  brother  the.  Jester  is  right.  ^  Only  one  sentiment  should  henceforth 
guide  us — patriotism  !  Let  us  lay  aside  all  ovff  paltry  enmities,  to  think 
only  of  but  one  thing — liberty  !  The  pale- faces  are  perfectly  ignorant  of 
our  plans.  During  the  few  days  I  passed  at  Guaymas  I  was  able  to  convince 
myself  of  that :  thus  our  sudden  invasion  will  be  to  them  a  thunderbolt, 
which  will  ice  them  with  terror.  They  will  be  more  than  half  conquered  by 
our  approach." 

There  was  a  solemn  silence.     The  Jester  then  turned  a  calm  and  proud 
glance  round  the  meeting,  and  exclaimed ; — 

"  The  Mexican  moon  will  begin  in  twenty-four  hours.  Red-skin  warriors  ! 
shall  we  allow  it  to  pass  away  without  attempting  one  of  those  daring  strokes 
which  we  usually  perform  at  this  period  of  the  year  ?  There  is  one  estab- 
lishment above  all,  over  which  we  should  rush  like  a  whirlwind :  that  estab- 
,  lishment  founded  by  pale  faces,  other  than  the  Yoris,  is  for  us  a  permanent 
menace.  I  will  not  deal  craftily  with  you.  Apache  chiefs !  I  come  to  of- 
fer you  frankly,  if  you  will  attack  Guetzalli,  the  support  of  four  hundred 
Comanche  warriors,  at  whose  head  I  will  place  myself." 

At  this  proposition  a  quiver  of  pleasure  ran  through  the  meeting. 
"  I  joyfully  accept  my  brother's  proposal,"  the  Black  Bear  said.     "  I   have 
nearly  the  same  number  of  warriors :  our  two  bands  will  be  strong  enough, 
I  hope,  to  utterly  destroy  the  pale-faces.     To-morrow,  at  the  risjng  of  the 
moon,  we  will  set  out." 

The  chiefs  retired,  and  the  Black  Bear  and  the  Jester  were  left  alone. 
These  two  chiefs  enjoyed  an  equal  reputatien,  and  both  were  adored  by 
their  countrymen.  llence  they  t  xamined  each  other  curiously,  for  up  to 
that  moment  they  had  always  been  enemies,  and  never  had  the  chance  of 
meeting  save  with  weapons  in  their  hands. 

"  I  thank  my  brother  for  his  cordial  offer,"  the  Black  Bear  was  the  first 
to  say.  "  Under  the  present  circumstances  his  help  will  be  very  advanta- 
geous for  us ;  but  once  the  victory  is  decided,  th(fc  spoil  will  be  equally 
shared  between  the  two  nations." 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  77 

The  Jester  bowed. 

"  What  plan  has  my  brother  formed  ?"  In-  asked. 

"A  very  simple  OIK-.  The  C'i»]ii:iii'-!n->  an-  terrible  horsemen:  with  my 
.cr  at  their  head,  they  must  I>L-  invincible.  So  soon  us  the  moon  shines 
in  the  heavens  the  Jester'will  set  our  with  his  warriors,  and  proceed  to- 
ward <iuet/alli,  being  careful  to  lire  the  prairie  in  front  of  his  detachnieiit. 
in  order  to  raise  a  curtain  of  smoke  which  will  conceal  his  movements  and 
prevent  his  warriors  be  in;,'  counted.  If,  as  is  not  probable,  the  pah-faces 
have  plaeed  \  id<  tie-  in -fore  their  great  lodge  to  annomie,  the  arrival  of  the 
expedition,  my  brother  will  sei/e  and  kill  them  at  once,  to  prevent  them 
giving  any  alarm.  In  tins  expedition,  as  in  all  those  that  ha  d  it, 

tiling  belonging  tofhe  pale-faces—  lod-es,  jacals.  houses— will  be  burnt; 
the  beasts  earried  olf  and  sent  to  the  rear.  On  arriving  in  Iron t  of  (Juet- 
/alli  my  brother  will  hide  himself  as  well  as  he  can,  and  await  the  signal  I 
wil  l«rive  him  to  attack  the  pale-fa* 

bod!  My  brother  i.>  a  prudent  chief.  He  will  succeed.  1  will  do  ex- 
actly as  he  has  toid  me  ;  ami  he,  what  will  he  do  while  I  am  executing  this 
portion  of  the  general  plan?" 

A  -tran-e  MI, ile  played  on  the  IJhirk  T.car's  lips. 

-  IK-  \v  laid  laying  his  hand  on  the  Comanche's  suoulder.     "  Let 

him  act  us  a  chief,  and  I  promise  him  a  glorious  victory." 

>ood  !"  the  Comanche  made  answer.     '•  My  brother  is    the   iirst   of  his 
nation:   he  knows  how  In-  should  behave  ;  the  Apa<-hes  are  not   women.     I 
join  my  warriors." 

"  'Tis  well  j  my  brother  has  understood.  To-morrow  at  the  rising  of  the 
moon." 

The  Jester  bowed,  and  the  two  chiefs  separated,  apparently  the  best 
friends  in  the  world.  A  few  moments  later  the  greatest  animation  prevailed 
in  the  Apache  camp;  the  women  struck  the  tents  and  loaded  the  mules,  the 
children  lassoed  and  .saddled  the  horses,  and  all  preparations  were  made  for 
their  departure. 


C  II  A  P  T  E  .R    XII. 

t 

A      WOMAN        S      STRATAGEM. 

Tn.  '       y  at  the  rishu:  <•:'  \    agreed,  the   -I 

ordered  his  detachment  to  set  out.  Presently  a  party  of  hor^-men  who  had 
hurried  onwards  threw  lighted  mid  t  IK*  shrubs,,  and  in  a  few  min- 

ute- an  innm  n<e-curtain  of  flames  n>-e  \<>  the  >ky.  and  completely  veiled 
the  horix.on.  The  Coina:;  f  the  Apache  chief 

with  such  lapidity  and  intelligence,  that  in  les<  than  an  hour  all  \va<  con- 
sumed. 

The  Bla<  '••'!  in  the  island  with  his  war  party,  had  not  made 

amove.     The  U-ac-s  left   by  the  (Vinaix  :    r  the 

count rv  only  that    incrning   so    lovely,  rich,  and    luxuriant,  \\a^ 

-  .late.      Tii'-n-  was  no  verdure,  no  llowers.no  birds  hidden  be- 
tlu-  foliage,  and  \  \\itterini;  as  if  to  out  rival  each  other. 

The  Indian's  plan  would  have    met  wi;  ;  .roii_'h  the   ar- 

rangement of  the  campaigners,  and  the  <iuet/alli  colonists  w«»nl«l  have  been 
surprised,  had  other  men  than  Uelhnmeur  and  his  friends  been  on  the  route 
of  the  Indian  army. 

The  Canadian  was  watching.     At  the  i"  e  that   arose    in  the  dis- 

tance he  understood  the    intention  1    without    losing    a 

moment  lie  sent  off  Eagle-head  to  the  colony  to  inform  the    count   of  what 


78  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

was  taking  place.  Still,  behind  the  fire,  the  Comanch.es  were  arriving  at 
full  speed  destroying  and  trampling  beneath  their  horse's  hoofs  what  the 
flames  might  have  spared. 

Night  had  completely  set  in  when  the  Jester  had  arrived  in  the  sight  of 
the  colony.  Supposing  that,  through  the  rapidity  of  his  inarch,  the  white 
men  would  not  have  had  time  to  place  themselves  on  the  defensive,  he  am- 
bushed a  portion  of  his  men,  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  the  rest,  and 
crawled  with  all  the  precautions  employed  in  such  cases  toward  the  isthmus 
battery. 

No  one  appeared  :  the  glacis  and  entrenchments  seemed  abandoned.  The 
Jester  uttered  his  war-cry,  rose  suddenly,  and  bounding  forward  like  a  jaguar, 
crossed  the  entrenchment,  followed  by  his  warriors.  But,  at  the  moment 
when  the  Comanches  prepared  to  leap  into  the  interior,  a  fearful  discharge 
at  point  blank  range  levelled  more  than  one-half  of  the  Indian  detachment, 
while  the  survivors  took  flight. 

The  Comanches  had  one  great  disadvantage — they  possessed  no  fire-arms. 
The  musketry  decimated  them,  and  they  could  only  reply  by  firing  their 
arrows,  or  by  hurling  their  javelins.  Noticing,  therefore,  though  too  late  for 
himself,  that  the  French  were  on  their  guard,  the  Jester,  desperate  at  the 
check  he  had  experienced,  and  his  serious  losses,  was  unwilling  to  further 
weaken  the  confidence  of  his  warriors  by  useless  attempts  He  concealed 
his  detachment  under  the  cover  of  the  virgin  forest,  and  resolved  to  wait  for 
the  Black  Bear's  signal  ere  he  made  a  move. 

Don  Louis  had  followed  Eagle-head.  The  Indian,  after  several  turnings, 
led  him  almost  opposite  the  isthmus  battery  to  the  entrance  of  a  dense 
thicket  of  cactus,  aloes,  and  floripondios. 

"  My  brother  can  dismount,"  he  said  to  the  Frenchman;  "  we  have  arrived." 

"  Arrived  where  ?"  Louis  asked,  looking  around  him  in  vain. 

Without  replying  the  chief  took  the  horse,  and  led  it  away.  Louis,  dur- 
ing the  interval  looked  all  around  him  :  but  his  researches  had  no  result. 

"Well,"  Eagle-head  asked  on  his  return,  "  has  my  brother  found  it  ?" 

"  On  my  faith,  no,  chief.     I  give  it  up." 

Thp  Indian  smiled. 

"  The  pale-faces  have  the  eyes  of  moles,"  lie  said. 

"  It  is  possible ;  at  any  rate,  I  should  feel  obliged  by  your  lending  me 
yours." 

"  Good  !    My  brother  shall  see." 

Eagle-head  glided  along  the  ground,  and  Louis  imitated  him  :  in  this  way 
they  entered  the  thicket.  After  about  a  quarter  of  an  hour  of  this  exercise, 
which  was  more  than  fatiguing,  the  Indian  stopped.  , 

"  Let  my  brother  look,"  he  said. 

They  were  in  a  small  clearing,  formed  in  the  midst  of  an  inextricable  med- 
ley of  branches  and  shrubs,  completed  by  a  profusion  of  leaves  so  artistically 
interlaced,  that  without  deep  observation  it  would  be  impossible  to  suspect 
the  existence  of  this  hiding-place.  Belhumeur  and  the  two  Mexicans  were 
philosophically  smoking  while  awaiting  the  return  of  the  envoy. 

"  You  are  welcome,"  the  Canadian  said,  so  soon  as  he  caught  sight  of 
him.  "  How  do  you  like  our  camp  ?  Charming,  is  it  not  V  Eagle-head 
discovered  it.  Those  devils  of  Indians  have  a  peculiar  talent  for  forming  an 
ambuscade.  We  are  as  safe  here  as  in  Quebec  Cathedral." 

During  this  flood  of  words,  to  which  he  only  responded  by  a  hearty  pres- 
sure of  the  hand,  Louis  had  comfortably  seated  himself  by  the  side  of  his 
companions,  and  began  to  do  honor,  with  excellent  appetite,  to  the  provisions 
they  had  put  aside  for  him. 

'  But  where  are  the  horses  ?'"  he  asked. 

"  Here,  two  paces  from  us ;  not  to  be  found  by  any  one  save  ourselves." 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  79 

"  Very  good.     Shall  we  be  able  to  gei  soon  as  we  want  them  T' 

«  Pardieu  !" 

"  The  fact  is  we  shall  probably  need  them  soon." 

"  Ah,  ah  !  but,"  he  added,  checking  himself,  "  I  am  chattering,  and  not 
noticing  that  you  must  be  probably  savagely  hungry.  Finish  your  meal,  and 
we  will  talk  after\v;i 

u  Oh  !  I  can  answer  very  well  while  eating." 

«  Wo  !  thing  has  its  proper  time.  Finish  your  breakfast  :  we 

will  listen  to  you  afterwards." 

Wh'-n  Loafa  had  finished  eating  he  described  fully  the  way  in  which  he 
had  carried  out  his  mission. 

••  All  that  is  very  good,"  Belhumeur  said  when  he  had  ended  his  report.  "  I 
believe  that  we  can  henceforth  feel  assured  about  the  safety  of  our  country- 
men, especially  with  the  help  of  the  forty  peons,  who  will  take  the  enemy 
between  two  fires." 

"  Yes,  but  where  shall  they  be  concealed  ?" 

"  Leave  that  to  Eagle-head.  The  chief  'knows  the  country  thoroughly  , 
he  has  hunted  in  it  for  a  long  time.  I  am  certain  he  will  find  a  suitable 
place  for  the  Mexicans.  What  do  you  say,  chief?" 

••1  to  hide  one's  self  in  the  prairie,"  the  chief  answered  laconically 

"  Yes,"  Don  Martial  remarked,  "  but  there  is  one  thing  you  forget." 

-  What? 

"  I  live  on  the  frontier,  and  have  long  been  accustomed  to  Indian  tactics. 
The  Apaches  will  arrive,  preceded  by  a  curtain  of  smoke  ;  the  plain  will  be 
only  one  vast  sheet  of  flame,  in  the  midst  of  which  we  shall  struggle  in  vain, 
and  which  will  end  by  swallowing  us  up,  if  we  do  not  take  the  proper  pre- 
cautions." 

"  That  is  true  :  it  is  a  serious  matter.  Unfortunately,  I  only  see  one  way 
.j»ing  from  the  danger,  and  that  we  cannot  employ." 

-What  is  it?" 

"  By  Jove  !  making  oft" 

•-  I  Know  another,"  Eagle-head  observed. 

"  You,  chief?    Then  you  will  tell  us  of  it." 

"  Let  the  pale-lluvs  li>t<  -n.  The  Rio  Gila,  like  all  other  large  rivers,  brings 
with  it  dead  lives,  at  times  in  such  quantities  that  at  certain  spots 


they  completely  block  up  the  passage  ,  in  time  tl  -  pivss  against 

each  other,  and"  their  bra:  entwined;  then  grass  grows,  to  ce- 

mt-nt  them  more  firmly  together;  the  sand  and  earth  are  piled  np  gradually 
on  these  iminen-  •  rafts,  which  at  a  di-tar.fe  r<.>eml>le  islands,  until  a  storm 
I  as  a  Hood,  which  breaks  up  the  rait. 

"  I  know  that.  I  have  seen  frequent,  instances  of  it,  chief,"  Belhnmeur 
said.  "  These  rafts  at  la-  •  look  so  like  islands  that  the  man  most 

ari-nstomed  to  desert  life  and  the  grand  spectacles  of  nature  is  frequently 
deceived  by  them.  I  understand  all  the  advantages  your  idea  posdfeejes  for 
us;  but,  unhappily,  I  do  not  see  how  it  will  be  possible  for  us  to  carry  it  out." 

"  In  the  simplest  way.  The  Indian's  eye  is  good;  he  s  'hing 

within  two  bow-shots  of  him.  Above  the  great  lodge  of  the  pale-faces,  did 
not  my  brother  notice  an  islet  about  fifty  3%ards  almost  from  ti 

i  What  you  say  is  quite  correct,"  Belhumeur  exclaimed  ;  '•  I  can  call  the 
inland  to  mind  now." 

"  From  the  position  it  occupies  there  will  be  nothing  to  apprehend  from 
fire,"  Louis  remarked.  "  If  it  is  large  enough  to  hold  us  all  it  will  be  ex- 
iremely  useful  as  an  advanced  post." 

'  We  have  not  a  moment^to  lose  :  we  must  take  possession  of  it  at  once, 
and  when  we  are  certain  that  it  offers  all  we  want  we  will  lead  the  peons  to 
it." 


80  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  Let  us  start,  then,  without  further  delay,"  the  Tigrero  said  as  he  rose. 

The  others  imitated  him,  and  the  five  men  left  the  clearing.  After  fetch 
ing  their  horses  they  proceeded  toward  the  island  under  the  gnidance  of 
Eagle-head. 

The  Indian  chief  had  not  deceived  them.  With  that  infallible  glance  hia 
countrymen  possess,  lie  had  at  once  formed  a  correct  opinion  of  the  spot  he  so 
cleverly  selected.  There  was  another  consideration  highly  advantageous  to 
the  adventurers — a  thick  linu  of  mangroves  bordered  the  river's  edge,  and 
advanced  sufficiently  far  into  the  stream  to  diminish  the  distance  separating 
the  isle  from  the  mainland,  while  forming  a  natural  defence  for  men  con- 
cealed in  the  tall  grass  ;  for  it  was  perfectly  impossible  that  the  Indians 
could  hide  themselves  in  the  mangroves  to  harass  their  enemies,  who,  on 
the  other  hand,  could  do  them  considerable  mischief. 

This  islet  (we  will  retain  the  name,  though  it  was  really  only  a  raft)  was 
covered  with  a  close,  strong  herbage,  about  two  yards  in  height,  in  the  midst 
of  which,  men  and  horses  completely  disappeared.  When  the  reconnois- 
sance  was  ended,  Belhumeur  and  the  two  Mexicans  installed  themselves  in 
the  centre,  while  Louis  and  Eagle-head  returned  to  the  bank  to  go  and  meet 
the  capataz  and  his  people. 

Don  Martial  did  not  care  to  accompany  them.  So  near  the  colony  he  was 
afraid  of  being  recognised  by  Don  Sylva,  and  preferred  to  maintain,  as  long 
as  he  could,  an  incognito  necessary  for  the  ulterior  success  of  his  plans. 
Louis,  after  making  him  the  offer  to  accompany  them,  pressed  him  no  further, 
and  appeared  to  accept  his  refusal  without  any  discussion.  The  truth  was, 
that  the  count  felt,  without  being  able  to  explain  it,  a  species  of  repulsion 
for  this  man,  whose  cautious  manner  and  continual  hesitation  had  ill  dis- 
posed him  in  his  favour. 

Eagle-head  and  Louis,  certain  that  the  Black  Bear  had  really  retired  with 
his  detachment,  and  left  no  spies  on  the  prairie,  thought  it  unnecessary  to  let 
the  Mexicans  take  a  long  and  wearisome  ride  before  leading  them  to  the 
hiding-place  ;  consequently,  they  hid  themselves  in  the  shrubs  at  the  end 
of  the  isthmus  to  watch  their  exit,  and  lead  them  straight  to  the  spot. 

In  the  mean  while  the  news  Don  Louis  had  carried  to  the  colonj'  had 
turned  everything  topsy-turvy.  Although,  since  the  first  foundation  of  the 
hacienda,  the  Indians  had  constantly  tried. to  harass  the  French,  the  various 
attempts  they  made  had  been  unimportant,  and  this  was  really  the  first  time 
they  would  have  a  serious  contest  with  their  ferocious  enemies. 

The  Count  de  Lhorailles  had  with  him  about  two  hundred  Dauph'yeers, 
who  had  come  from  Valparaiso,  Guyaquil,  Callao,  and  the  other  Pacific  ports, 
which  are  always  crowded  with  adventurers  of  every  description.  These 
worthy  people  were  a  singular  mixture  of  all  the  nationalities  peopling  the 
two  hemispheres,  although  the  French  supplied  the  largest  factor.  Half 
bandits,  half  soldiers,  these  men  put  the  utmost  faith  in  the  chief  they  had 
freely  chosen. 

The  news  of  the  attack  premeditated  by  the  Apaches  was  received  by  the 
garrison  with  shouts  of  joy  and  enthusiasm.  It  was  an  amusement  for  these 
adventurers  to  exchange  shots,  or  rub  the  rust  of!*  a  little,  as  they  naively 
said  in  their  picturesque  language.  The}''  desired  before  all  to  prove  to  the 
Apaches  the  difference  existing  between  the  Creole  colonists,  whom  they  had 
been  in  the  habit  of  killing  and  plundering  from  time  immemorial,  and 
Europeans  whom  they  did  not  yet  know. 

The  count,  therefore,  had  no  need  to  recommend  firmness  to  them  ;  he  was 
on  the  contrary,  obliged  to  repress  their  ardour,  and  beg  them  to  be  prudent, 
by  promising  that  they  should  soon  have  an  opportunity  of  meeting  the  red- 
skins in  the  open  field. 

As  soon  as  the  defensive  "preparations  were  made  the  count  left  the  details 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  81 

to  his  two  lieutenants,  two  old  n  whotn  he  believed  lie  could  count; 

then  he  thought  of  B  -•      In  the  probable  event  that 

the  Indians  had  left  '"'^'i  they  ni;;.-t    he  persuaded    that 

this  1)  in  1  hud  really  retired.      !  laden  \vitli 

provision^,  as  if  i'<>i:a  Ion-  wrell    i'M  ructed,  put 

nimsolf    at  the  head  of  the  o/.iadro.-m,  a-rl  left   '  :  .iigh. 

The  (V)iint,  Don  Svlva.  and  the  other  inhabitants  f.»l!o-.ved  the    party  with 

an  interest  t-;tsv  to  comprehend,  ready  to  help  them  if  Attacked.  15".'  nothing 
stirred  in  tin-  "prairie  ;  the  ralm  an  .  1  the 

1  ion  disappeared  in   the   tal!  gra>s. 

u  I  cannot    at   all    understan 
thoughtfully.     '  have  allowed    * 

must  he  planning  some  trick  whi<-h  o!U-i^  n  goo  I    ; 

••  \V"  shall  so- ui    know  what  we    are  (••  .   i  ;  "he- 

sid-->,  we  ai'e  ready  t->  receiv  -  the'-t.      lain  only    OVf\   that]  '      -  .ould 

he  here  ;  not  that  she  runs  th-  'nit  the   sound,  of  the   contest 

may  terrify  her." 

•:  N  -.  -  ••nor  i-Mide,''  the  lady  >aid.  •    from  the  hou^e    at  the    mo- 

ment  ;  "  fear  noihing  of  that  nature  for  me.     I  am  a  true    Mexican,  and  not 

,'f  voiir   Ku'/opeaJi  dames,   whom   the  sli«rhte..>t   thiii;^    ea:i>-.  s    to    faint. 

Often,  In dronmstasces graTer  than  th.M-.  I  l:av<-  heard   the  Apache  wary. '11 

M  m\'  ear*,  without.  ho\v  i    •  alarm    you  seem  to 

nd  from  me  to-day." 

After  p.f  rds  with  that  h  :'oundly  contemptu- 

ous accent  women  know  <o  \\vll  to  employ  to  a  man  they  do  not  love,  Donna 
Anita  pa.-  d  before  the  count  without  deigning  him  a  'glance,  and  took  her 
father's  arm. 

Fi  rnchman  made  no  reply  :  he  bit  his  lips  till  they  bled,  and  bowed 
as  if  he  did  not  understand  the   epigram  launched  at  him.     He  intend 
have  an    explanation  with  his   betrothed  at  a  later  date  ;  for  though  lie    did 
not.  love  her,  as* often  happens    in  such  ca>es,  he    did  not    pardon    her   i 
h>ved  bv  another,  and  especially  i»»r  regarding  him  with  indifference  ;  but  the 
cvt-iits  which  had  hurried  on  with  such  rapidity  during  the  la>t  two  -lays  had 
hitherto  prevented  him  asking  this  imjxjrtant  interview  of  the  donni. 

The  ha-'i  \iidalu-*ian  from  head  tofo-.t.all  lip 

>'.i,  only  obeying  :  itate  movements    of  her  h'-ari.      Lovin--  with 

all  the  strength  of  I,  :e.'iiar«le<l  by  her    h.ve  fur    Don    M 

had  judged  the  (Vi;nt  (h1  \.\\-  .rallies  ctjol! ;.  .  nder 

if  the  gentl-'inan  ;   h  made  up  her  mind  at    once  '••  render 

it,  an  impn-Mliility  ever  to  become  hil  i  0  coininei,- 

with  h-.-r  !  0  well  t  »    risk  it,  the  old  Spanish    bloo  i 

boiled  in    his  vims.      A    \\»;:i:m's   strength  is    her   apparent    weakn;-^  ;  her 

means  of  defenoe,  stratagem.     As  much   Indi.  \nita 

^tratagem,  that   terrible  woman's  weapon,  which  often    rend 
dangei 

HI ,  i/.  hrl   seen  the  birth  of  Donna    Anita  :  his  wife 

had  been  h'-r  nurse — that  is,  lie  was  devoted  to  the  young  girl,  and  on  | 
from  her  he  would  have  pled^-d  hi-  .tan. 

When  Don  Louis  \i-itedrhe  !:acienda  the  young  lady  was  considerably 
curious  ;LS  to  the  motive  of  his  arrival.  After  the  Frenchman's  departure 
she  asked  coolly  for  information  from  the  -v  n«,  j):inn  in  giving 

it  to  her,  the  m  -  one  in  the    colony  .  .  know  the 

news  the  count  brought.  The  only  thing  DO  one  could  know,  and  which 
Dona  Anita  guessed  with  that  heart  instinct  wlii--h  never  <1-  the 

presence  of  t!ie  Tigrero  among  the  hunters  ambushed  in  the  vicinity  of  the 
hacienda. 


82  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

On  leaving  her  at  Guaymas,  Don  Martial  had  said  that  he  would  constantly 
watch  over  her,  and  save  her  from  the  fate  with  which  she  was  menaced. 
After  that,  it  was  plain  that  he  must  have  followed  her.  Had  he  done  so 
(which  she  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt),  he  must  certainly  be  among  the 
brave  men  who  at  that  moment  were  devoting  themselves  to  save  her,  while 
seeking  to  protect  the  colony. 

The  logic  of  the  heart  is  the  only  species  that  is  positive  and  never  de- 
ceives. We  have  seen  that  Donna  Anita,  enlightened  by  passion,  reasoned 
justly.  When  the  girl  had  drawn  from  the  capataz  all  the  information  she 
desired : — 

"  Don  Bias,"  she  said  to  him,  "  it  is  probable  that  if  the  colony  is  attacked, 
after  the  services  you  will  be  able  to  render,  and  when  my  father  and  Don 
Gaetano  no  longer  want  you  and  your  men,  that  you  will  receive  orders  to 
return  to  Guaymas." 

"  'Tis  probable,  certainly,  senora,  "  the  worthy  man  answered. 

"  In  that  case  you  will  have  no  objection  to  do  me  a  service  ?"  she  went  on, 
looking  at  him  with  her  most  fascinating  smile. 

"  You  know,  senorita,  that  I  would  throw  myself  into  the  fire  for  you." 

"  I  do  not  wish  you  to  put  your  friendship  td  such  a  rude  trial,  my  good 
Bias  ;  still  I  thank  you  for  your  kindly  feeling." 

"  What  can  I  do  to  oblige  you  ?" 

"  Oh  !  a  very  easy  matter.  You  know,"  she  said  lightly,  "  that  for  a  long 
time  I  have  wished  to  have  two  jaguar  skins  as  a  carpet  for  my  bedroom  ?" 

"  No,"  he  replied  simply ;     "  I  was  not  aware  of  it." 

"  Ah  !  well,  I  tell  it  you  now,  so  you  know  it." 

"  I  shall  not  forget  it,  senorita,  you  may  be  sure." 

"  Thanks ;  but  that  is  not  exactly  what  I  want." 

"What?" 

"  That  you  could  get  the  skins  for  me." 

"  Oh !  so  soon  as  I  am  my  own  master  again  you  can  depend  on  me." 

"  I  do  not  wish  you  to  expose  your  life  to  satisfy  a  whim." 

"  Oh,  senorita  !"  he  said  reproachfully. 

"  No  ;  I  have  a  way  to  procure  them  more  easily." 

"  Ah  !     Very  good.     Let  us  see." 

"  A  renowned  Tigrero  arrived  at  Guaymas  a  few  days  back." 

"  Don  Martial  Asuzena  ?"  he  quickly  interrupted  her. 

"  Do  you  know  him  ?" 

"  Who  does  not  know  the  Tigrero  ?" 

"  Well,  I  heard  that  he  has  brought  from  his  last  hunt  on,  the  western 
prairies  some  magnificent  jaguar  skins,  which  I  have  no  doubt,  he  would  be 
willing  to  sell  at  a  fair  price." 

"  I  am  certain  of  it." 

"  Here,"  she  said,  drawing  a  small,  carefully  sealed  note  from  her  bosom, 
"  is  a  letter  you  will  give  that  man.  I  describe  in  it  the  way  in  which  I  should 
like  to  have  the  skins  prepared,  and  the  price  I  am  willing  to  give.  Here  is 
the  money,"  she  added,  as  she  handed  him  a  purse  ;  "  you  will  arrange  the 
matter  for  me." 

"  There  was  no  occasion  to  write,"  the  capataz  remarked. 

"  Pardon  me,  my  friend,  you  have  so  many  things  to  think  of,  that  a  trifle 
like  this  might  easily  slip  your  memory." 

"  Well,  that  is  possible  ;  so  perhaps  you  have  acted  wisely." 

"  Well,  then,  it  is  agreed — you  will  perform  my  commission  ?" 

"  Can  you  doubt  it  ?" 

"  No,  my  friend.  But  stay,  one  word  more.  Do  not  say  anything  to  my 
father.  You  know  how  kind- he  is;  he  would  want  to  make  me  a  present 
of  them,  and  I  wish  to  pay  for  the  skins  out  of  my  own  purse." 


THE    TIGER- SLAYER.  83 

The  capataz  began  laughing  at  the  joke.  The  worthy  man  was  delighted 
at  sharing  vr  slight  it  might  be,  with  his  darling  child,  as  ho 

called  his  voir.i-  HUM 

"  It  is  settled,-'  he  .-aid  ;  "  I  will  be  dumb.*' 

The  girl  gave  him  a  friendly  nod  and  withdrew.  What  was  the  meaning 
of  thtt  note  :'  Why  did  she  write  it  ?  \\'e  shall  soon  learn.  • 

The  i lay  {>a-^vd  at  rhe  haeimda  without  further  incidents.  The  count 
made  several  attempts  to  have  a  conversation  with  the  donna,  which  she  con- 
stantly sought  to  avoid. 

Bias  Vasquez,  on  quitting  the  colony,  struck  the  Guaymas  road,  and  made 
his  troop  go  at  a  sharp  trot,  through  fear  of  a  surprise.  He  had  scarce  lost 
sight  of  the  colony,  and  entered  the  tall  grass,  when  two  men,  leaping  into 
iiddle  of  the  path,  checked  their  horses  about  twenty  paces  ahead  of 
him.  One  of  them  was  an  Indian ;  the  other  the  capataz  recognised  at  a 
glance  as  the  man  who  had  come  to  the  hacienda  that  mor.  ••quoz 

commanded  his  men  to  halt,   and  advancing  alone  to  meet  the  stranger, 
said : — 

"  By  what  accident  do  I  meet  you  here,  Senor  Frances  1  You  are  still 
far  from  the  meeting  place  you  indicated  yourself." 

••  \Ve  are  so,"  was  the  reply  ;  "  but  as  we  found  no  Apache  trail  in  the 
prairie  we  thought  it  useless  to  give  3-011  a  long  journey.  I  have  been  sent 
to  conduct  you  to  the  ambush  we  have  chosen." 

"  You  did  right,     Have  we  far  to  go?" 

"  No,  hardly  a  quarter  of  an  hour's  ride.  We  are  going  to  that  islet, 
which  you, can  see  by  standing  in  your  stirrups,"  he  added,  stretching  out  his 
arm  in  the  direction  of  the  rlv 

;<  Eh  ?"  the  capataz  said.  "The  spot  is  well  chosen  :  we  can  command  the 
river  from  1 

:it  is  the  reason  why  he  selected  it." 

"  Be  good  enough,  then,  to  serve  as  our  guide,  Senor  Frances :  we  will 
follow  you." 

The  detachment  set  out  again.  As  Don  Louis  had  stated,  within  a  quar- 
ter of  an  hour  the  ca  were  encamped  on  the  islet  with 

I  by  grass  land  mangroves,  that  it  was  im- 
possible to  see  them  from  either  bank  of  the  river. 

-oon  as  the  cap;  iod  his  duties  as  head  of  the   dctach- 

,  he  sat  down  at  the  bivouac  fire   by  the  side   of  his   new   friends,  to 

i  lie  first  person  Bias  perc  Don 

Martial  the  Tigrero.     At  the  sight  of  him  lu  refrain   from   a 

."nt  of  sui , 

"  Capita  /•'  he  exclaini"d,  with  a  loud  laugh  ;  "  ths  mccti:v:  i ;  curious." 

••  Why  so  ?*   th  '   Mexican   a>k  •  1,  rather  annoyed  by  tlii  tion, 

which  he  had  not  expected,  for  he  did  not  think  the  capataz   knew  him. 

"Are  you  not  Don  Martial  Asiizena?" 

••  Yes,"  he  replied,  more  and  more  restless. 

"  My  faith  !  I  should  have  found  it  difficult  to  meet  you  at  Guayrats;  but 
I  did  not  expect  to  find  you  here." 

"  Kxplain  yourself,  I  beg.     I  cannot  understand  you  at  all." 

"  My  young  mistress  gave  me  a  message  for  you." 

"  What  do  you  say  ?'  the  Tigrero  exclaimed,  his  heart  beginning  to  pal- 
pitate. 

'•  What  I  say,  nothing  else.  Donna  Anita  wishes  to  buy  two  jaguar  skins 
of  you,  it  appears." 

«{  Of  me  r 

«  Yes." 

Don  Martial  regarded  him  with  such  an  air  of  amazement  that  the  capataa 


84  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

began  again  laughing  heartily.  This  laughter  aroused  the  young  man  ;  made 
him  conjecture  there  was  some  mystery  in  the  affair;  and  that  if  he  con- 
tinued to  look  so  astonished,  he  would  arouse  suspicions  in  the  worthy  man, 
who  probably  did  not  know  the  word  of  the  riddle. 

"  'Tis  true,"  he  said,  as  if  trying  to  remember  something,  "  I  fancy  I  can 
call  to  mind  s^me  time  back — 

"  Then,"  the  capataz  interrupted  him,  "  it's  all  right ;  besides,  I  was  asked 
to  hand  you  a  letter  so  soon  as  I  met  you." 

"  A  letter  from  whom  ?  ' 

"Why,  from  my  mistress  I  suppose." 
»    "  From  Donna  Anita  ?" 

«  Who  else  ?" 

"  Give  it  me  quickly,"  the  Tigrero  exclaimed  in  great  agitation. 

The  capataz  handed  it  to  him.  Don  Martial  tore  it  from  his  hands,  broke 
the  seal  with  trembling  fingers,  and  devoured  it  with  his  eyes.  When  he 
had,finished  reading  it  he  concealed  it  in  his  bosom. 

"  Well,"  the  capataz  asked  him,  "  what  does  my  mistress  say  ?" 

"  Only  what  you  told  me  yourself"  the  Tigrero  replied,  in  anything  but  a 
firm  voice. 

Bias  Vasquez  shook  his  head. 

"  Hem  !  that  man  is  certainly  hiding  something  from  me,"  he  muttered. 
'"  Can  Donna  Anita  have  deceived  me  ?" 

In  the  meanwhile  the  Tigrero  walked  about  in  agitation,  apparently  re- 
volving some  important  project.  At  length  he  approached  Belhumeur,  who 
was  smoking  silently,  and,  leaning  over  his  ear,  uttered  a  few  words  in  a  low 
voice,  to  which  the  Canadian  aswered  with  a  nod  of  assent.  A  flash  of  joy 
illumined  the  Tigrero's  gloomy  face  as  he  made  a  sign  to  Cuchares  to  follow 
him,  and  quitted  the  bivouac  a  few  minutes  later.  Don  Martial  and  the  le- 
pero,  both  mounted,  swam  across  the  space  separating  them  from  the  main 
land.  The  capataz  perceived  them  at  the  moment  they  landed,  and  uttered 
a  cry  of  astonishment. 

"  Why,"  he  exclaimed,  "  the  Tigrero  is  leaving  us.  Where  can  he  be  go- 
ing?" 

Belhumeur  regarded  the  Mexican  with  his  bitter-sweet  look,  and  replied, 
with  a  jesting  accent, — 

"  Who  knows  ?  Perhaps  he  is  going  to  carry  the  answer  to  the  letter 
you  gave  him." 

"  That  is  not  impossible,"  the  capataz  remarked  thoughtfully,  little  sus- 
pecting that  he  spoke  the  exact  truth. 

At  this  moment  the  sun  set  in  floods  of  purple  and  gold  far  away  in  the 
horizon  behind  the  snow-clad  peaks  of  the  lofty  mountains  of  the  Sierra 
Madre,  and  night  soon  stretched  her  black  cere-cloth  over  the  earth. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

A   NIGHT   JOURNEY. 

EVENTS  have  so  multiplied  during  the  course  of  this  night,  that  to  keep 
headway  with  the  incidents,  we  are  compelled  to  pass  incessantly  from  one 
person  to  another. 

Don  Martial  was  rich — very  rich — eager  for  excitement,  and  endowed  with 
warlike  instincts.  He  had  only  embraced  the  profession  of  Tigrero  in  order 
to  have  a  plausible  excuse  for  his  constant  travels  in  the  desert,  which  he  had 
passed  his  whole  life  in  traversing  in  every  direction. 


THE    TIGER- SLAYER.  85 

The  Tigreros  are  generally  wood-nngera  or  old  hunters,  wlio,  for  a  cer- 
tain salary  :ui'l  :i  premium  on  e;Hi  hide, engage  with  a  haciendero  to  kill  the 
wild  beasts  that  decimate  his  herds.  What  others  did  fur  monev,  lie  per- 
formed simplv  for  pleasure  ;  hence  he  was  pi-rat ly  liked  on  the  frontiers,  and 
-ally  welcomed  \ty  all  the  hacicnderos,  who  found  in  him  not  only  the 
clever  and  daring  hunter,  hut  also  the  boon  companion  and  the  cahnllero. 

D  .!i  Martial  -aw  Donna  Anita  for  the  first  time  when  the  chance*  of  his 
id  venturous  life  bad  led  him  to  a  hacienda  belonging  to  Don  Sylva,  where, 
within  tin-  a  month,  he  killed  some  dozen  wild  hearts."  As  the  Ti- 

grero  constantly  watched  the  youivz  irirl,  whom  he  could  not.  see,  without 
fulling  madly  in"  love  with,  it  happened  that  one  day,  when  Anita's  hors.-  ran 
awav,  he  was  near  enough  to  save  her  at  the  j>eril  of  his  own  life.  It  w;us 
i:.e  girl  first  noticed  and  spoke  to  him.  We  know 
th--  r 

Cuchares  was  not  all   pleased  with   the  sudden  departure  from  the  Hand. 

II     inwardly  e-ir-ed   the  folly  which  made  him  attach  himself  to  a  man  like 

him  he  now  followed,  who  mi^ht  expose  him  at  any  moment  to  the  chances 

of  getting  an  arrow  through  his  body,  without  any  profit  or  available  < 

Still  Cu-liaivs  \va>  not  the  man  to  feel  long  angry  with  the  Tigrwro.     lie 

knew  that  -  >ns  alone  could  have  induced  him  to  leave  a  shelter  at 

that    hour  of  the  night,  resign  the  aid   of  the   hunters,  and  go  wandering 

M  without  any. apparent  object.     He  burned  to  know  the  rea- 

b;it  lie   knew  that  Don  Martial  was  no  great  talker,  and  had  a  great 

ion  to  having  his  secrets  spied  out ;  and  as,  in  spite  of  all  his  bounce,he 

>iivl    a  -ivat  respect  for   the  Tigrero,  mingled  with  a  decent  amount 

tr,  he  deferred  to  a  more  favorable  moment  the  numerous  questions  ho 

!  to  ;i>k  him.     , 

.  marched  on  side  by  side  silently,  allowing  the  reins  to 

on  their  horses'  heads,  and  each  indulging  in  hi.-  own  reflections.     Still 

[•••marked    that  Don  Martial,  instead   of  seeking  the  cover  of  the 

.  obstinately  followed  the  river  bank,  and  kept  the  horse  as  close  to  it 

rfble. 

The  !ly  denser  around  them;  distant  objects  began  to 

b-  I  ^r  in  t!i  •   ;•:  -   adow  on  the   hori/on,  and  they  soon  found   them- 

1  in  complete  obscurity.      For   some  time    the  lep.-ro  tried,  by  coughing 
or  uttering    exclamations,  tO  attract    his  comrade's    attention,  thouoh  u 

:!ly  ;  Int  when  In-  s;iw  that  the  night  had  completely  set    in,  while  t!io 
irched  on  W'tin-it  app  >arin^  to  notice  the  fact,  he  at  length   mus- 
tere  1  up  c<mra'je  to  addn-<s  him. 
M  D-.:i  Mirtial."   he  sii  I. 
'•  Well,"  the  latter  ivplied  carel"s>ly. 
u  1)..  you  not  think  it  is  time  for  us  to  stop  a  little  T 
"  What  : 

"  What  for?''  the  lepero  replied,  with  a  bound  of  surprise. 
"  Ve.-  ;  we  have  not  arrived  , 
"Tti,  j.>i:iz  somewhere  ?" 

••  W:.v  else  8OO  :!  i  we  have  h-f't  our  friend-  T' 

"  That1-  true.     Whbre  are  we  going,  though  ?     That  is  what  I  should  like 
to  know/' 
.  "  You  will  soon  d" 

"I  confess  that  f  sh-.u!  1  f  it." 

There  was  :u.--iin  BJ1  i  i,  -1  iring  wiiich  they  continued  to  advance.  They 
had  left  the  hill  of  <Iuet//iHi  about  two  musket-shots  behind  them,  and 
reached  a  -ort  of  creek,  which  through  the  windings  of  the  river,  was  almost 
parallel  with  the  back  of  the  hacien  la.  whose  gloomy  and  imposing  mass 
ro.-e  before  them.  J)o:i  Marfial  stopped. 


86  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  We  have  arrived,"  he  said. 

"  At  last !"  the  lepero  muttered  with  a  sigh  of  satisfaction. 

"  I  mean  to  say,"  the  Tigrero  went  on,  "  that  tlie  easiest  part  of  our  ex- 
pedition is  ended." 

"  We  are  making  an  expedition  then  ?" 

"  By  Jove  !  do  you  fancy,  then,  my  good  fellow,  that  I  am  marching  along 
the  banks  of 'the  Gila  merely  for  amusement?" 

"  That  surprised  me,  too." 

"  Now  our  expedition  will  speedily  commence  in  reality." 

"  Good  !" 

"  I  must  warn  you,  however,  that  it  is  rather  dangerous  ;  however,  I  count- 
ed on  you." 

"  Thanks,"  Cuchares  answered,  making  a  grimace  which  had  some  pre- 
tensions to  resemble  a  smile.  The  truth  is,  the  lepero  would  have  preferred 
that  his  friend  had  not  given  him  this  proof  of  confidence.  Don  Martial 
continued : — 

"We  are  going  there  ;"  and  he  extended  his  arm  in  the  direction  of  the 
river. 

"  Where  then  ?  to  the  hacienda  ?" 

'•<  Yes." 

"  You  wish  us  to  be  cut  in  pieces." 

«  How  so  ?" 

"  Do  you  believe  we  shall  reach  the  hacienda  without  being  discovered  ?" 

"  We  will  try  it  at  any  rate." 

"  Yes ;  and  as  we  shall  not  succeed,  those  demons  of  Frenchmen,  who  are 
on  the  watch,  will  take  us  for  savages,  and  be  safe  to  shoot  at  us." 

"  It  is  a  risk  to  run." 

"  Thanks  !  I  prefer  remaining  here,  for  I  confess  I  am  not  yet  mad  enough 
to  put  myself  in  the  wolfs  jaws  for  mere  sport.  Go  where  you  please,  but  I 
stay  here." 

The  Tigrero  could  not  suppress  a  smile. 

"  The  danger  is  not  so  great  as  you  suppose,"  lie  said.  "  We  are  expect- 
ed at  the  hacienda  by  some  one  who  will  doubtlessly  have  moved  the  senti- 
nels from  the  spot  where  we  shall  land." 

"  That  is  possible,  but  I  do  not  care  to  try  the  experiment,  for  a  bullet 
never  pardons ;  besides,  those  Frenchmen  are  tremendous  marksmen." 

The  Tigrero  made  no  reply;  he  did  not  seem  even  to  have  heard  his 
companion's  remark.  His  mind  was  elsewhere.  With  his  body  bent  for- 
ward, he  was  listening.  During  the  last  few  minutes  the  desert  had  assum- 
ed a  singular  appearance.  It  woke  up.  All  sorts  of  noises  were  heard  from 
the  depths  of  the  thickets  and  clearings.  Animals  of  every  description 
rushed  from  the  covert,  and  madly  passed  the  two  men  without  noticing 
them.  The  birds  startled  from  their  first  sleep,  rose  uttering  shrill  cries, 
and  circled  in  the  air.  In  the  river  might  be  seen  the  outlines  of  wild  beasts 
swimming  vigorously  to  reach  the  other  bank.  In  a  word,  something  extra- 
ordinary was  taking  place. 

At  intervals  dry  crackling  sounds  and  hoarse  murmurs,  like  those  of  ris- 
ing water,  broke  the  silence,  and  became  with  each  moment  more  intense. 
On  the  extreme  verge  of  the  horizon  a  large  band  of  bright  red,  growing 
wider  from  minute  to  minute,  spread  over  the  scene  a  purple  and  golden 
glare,  which  gave  it  a  fantastic  appearance.  Already,  on  two  different  occa- 
sions, enormous  clouds  of  smoke  spangled  with  sparks  had  whirled  over  the 
heads  of  the  two  men. 

"  Hailoh !  what  is  happening  now  ?"  the  lepero  suddenly  exclaimed. 
"  Look  at  our  horses,  Don  Martial." 

In  fact,  the  noble  beasts,  with  neck  outstretched  and  ears  laid  back,  were 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  87 

breathing  heavily,  stamping  on  the  ground,  and  twin-  to  escape  their  riders. 

"  Ctispita!"  tlio  Tigrero  said  calmly,  -they  smell  the  tire,  that  is  all." 

"  U'hat  fire  I     \  >•>  you  think  the  prairie  is  on  lire  !" 

"Of  course.     Yon  •  M  u«  11  as  I  if  you  like." 

"  Hem  !  what  is  the  meaning  of  that  ?" 

inaty  Indian  tricks.     We  are  in  the  Co- 
manche  moon:  an1  you  not  aware  of  that?" 

u  I  beg  your  pardon,  I  am  not  u  wood-ranger.  I  confess  to  you  that  all 
this  alarms  me  greatly,  and  that  I  would  willingly  give  a  trifle  to  be  out  of 
it." 

"You  child!"  Don  Martial  aaswered  him  laughingly.  "It  is  evident 
that  the  Indian-!  h  iv.-  tired  the  prairii?  to  conceal  their  numbers :  they  are 
r.ming  up  behind  the  fire.  You  will  soon  hear  their  war-cry  .sounding 
amid  the  clouds  of  smoke  and  lire  which  are  approaching,  and  will  soon  sur- 
f>y  remaining  here-you  run  three  risks — of  being  roasted,  scalped, 
or  killed  :  three  most  unpleasant  things,  I  grant,  and  which  I  do  not  think 
will  suit  you.  You  had  better  come  with  me.  If  you  are  killed,  well, 
wh  it  then  ?  It  i-  a  r\<k  to  run.  Come,  dismount ;  the  fire  is  gaining  on  us : 
soon  we  shall  not  have  the  chance.  What  will  you  do?" 

"  I  will  follow  you.'1  th"  lepero  replied  in  a  mournful  voice.     "  I  must.     I 

was  mad — deuce  take  me  ! — to   leave  Guaymas,  where   I  was  so  happy — 

where  I  lived  without  working — to  come  and   thrust  my  head  into  such 

wasps1  nests.    I  assure  you  that  if  I  escape  he  will  be  a  sharp  fellow  who 

a  me  here  a  second  t 

"  Bah.  bah  !  people  always  fcay  that.  Make  haste  ;  we  have  no  time  to 
lose." 

In  i  ^rt  for  a  distance  of  several  leagues  burned  like  the   crater 

of  an  immen.se  volcano  ;  the  flames  undulated  and  shot  along  like  the  waves 
of  the  sea.  twisti •> ;  and  f'-lling  the  largest  trees  like  wisps  of  straw.  From 
the  thick  curtain  of  copper-colored  smoke  which  preceded  the  flames  there 
escaped,  at  each  moment,  bands  *of  coyotes,  buffaloes,  and  jaguars,  which, 
maddened  with  terror,  rushed  into  the  river,  uttering  yells  and  deafening 

Don  Martial  and  the  lepero  entered  the  water;  and  their  noble  animals, 
imp"lled  by  their  instinct,  hurried  in  the  direction  of  the  other  bank. 

This  part  of  the  desert  formed  a  strange    contrast  to  that  which  the    men 

I  -:iving.     The  latter  H  i-iimnis"    f'lrnan-,  from  whi 

vague  rumors,  cries  of  distress,  agony  and  t«-rr"r;  a  sea  of  fire,  with  its 
billows  and  ma;  /allowed  U 

thing  on  their    p  '  -.dini:  mountains,  and    reduc- 

ing to  impalpab:  jvtablf  and  animal    kinir'i 

The  Gila,  at  t  of  the  year  swollen  by  the  rains  which  had  fallen 

in  the  sierra,  had  a  width  double  of  what  it  was  in  summer.     At  that   ; 
od  its  current  b  vid  frequently  •!  f  lirough  its  rapidity, 

but.  at  the  moment  onr  adv.-ntun-ix  dM—'-d  it,  the  numerous  animals  which 
t  to  cross  it  simultaneously  in  a  dense   body  nad  so   broken    its  force, 
that  they  reached  the  other  bank  in  a  comparatively  short  period. 

"Eh  !"  Cuchares  observed  at  the  moment  the  horses  struck  land  and  began 
ascending  tiie  bank.  ••  did  you  not  tell  me.  Don  Martial,  that  we  were  ^ 
to  the  hacienda  ?     We  are  not  taking  the  road,  I  fancy." 

"  You  fancy  wrong,  comrade.  Rumember  this — in  the  desert  a  man  mast 
always  appear  to  turn  his  back  on  the  object  he  wishes  to  reach,  or  he  will 
never  arrive." 

"  Which  means  ?" 

"  That  we  are  going  to  hobble  our  horses  under  this  tuft  of  rnesquites  and 
cedar-wood  trees,  where  they  will  be  in  perfect  safety,  and  then  go  straight 
to  the  hacienda." 


&8  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

The  Tigrero  immediately  dismounted,  led  his  horse  under  the  shelter  of 
the  great  trees,  took  off  its  bridle  in  order  that  it  might  graze,  hobbled  it 
carefully,  and  returned  to  the  bank. 

Cuchares,  with  that  resolutlou  of  despair  which,  under  certain  circumstan- 
ces, bears  a  striking  resemblance  to  courage,  imitated  his  companion's  move- 
ments point  for  point.  The  worthy  lepero  had  at  length  formed  an  heroic 
resolve.  Persuaded  that  he  was  lost,  he  yielded'  himself  to  the  guidance  of 
his  lucky  or  unlucky  star  with  that  half-timid  fanaticism  which  can  only  be 
compared  with- that  found  among  the  Easterns. 

As  we  have  said,  this  side  of  the  river  was  plunged  in  shade  and  silence, 
and  the  adventurers  were  temporarily  protected  from  any  danger. 

"  Stay,"  the  lepero  again  remarked  ;  "  it  is  a  good  distance  from  this  place 
to  the  hacienda  ;  I  can  never  swim  it." 

"  Patience.  We  shall  find,  I  am  certain,  if  we  take  the  trouble  to  look, 
means  to  shorten  it.  Ah 'look  ?"  he  said,  a  moment  later.  "  What  did  I  say 
to  you  ?" 

The  Tigrero  pointed  out  to  the  lepero  a  small  canoe  fastened  to  a  stake  in  a 
small  creek. 

"  The  colonists  often  come  here'  to  fish,"  he  continued :  "  they  have  several 
canoes  concealed  like  this  at  various  spots.  We  will  take  this  oue,  and  in  a 
few  moments  we  shall  reach  our  destination.  Do  you  know  how  to  manage 
a  paddle  ?" 

"  Yes,  when  I  am  not  afraid." 

Don  Martial  looked  at  him  for  a  few  seconds,  then  laying  his  hand  roughly 
on  his  shoulder,  said  in  a  sharp  voice  : — "  Hark  you,  Cuchares,  my  friend.  I 
have  no  time  to  discuss  the  matter  with  you  ;  I  have  extremely  serious  reas- 
ons for  acting  as  I  am  now  doing.  I  want  on  your  part  hearty  co-operation, 
so  take  warning  in  time.  You  know  me  :  at  the  first  suspicious  movement  I 
will  blow  out  your  brains  as  I  would  a  coyote's.  Now  Help  me  to  launch  the 
canoe  and  start." 

The  lepero  understood  and  resigned  himself.  In  a  few  minutes  the  canoe 
was  ready  and  the  two  men  in  it.  The  passage  they  had  to  make  to  reach 
the  back  of  the  hacienda  was  not  long,  but  bristled  with  dangers.  In  the 
first  palce,  through  the  strength  of  the  current  which  bore  with  it  a  large 
quantity  of  dead  trees,  most  of  them  still  having  their  branches,  which,  float- 
ing half  submerged  in  the  water,  threatened  at  each  pull  to  pierce  the  frail 
boat.  Next,  the  animals  which  continued  to  shun  the  fire,  crossed  the  river 
in  compact  bands  ;  and  if  the  canoe  were  entangled  in  one  of  these  manadas 
mad  with  terror,  it  must  be  crushed  with  its  passengers.  The  lightest  dan- 
ger the  adventurers  ran  was  the  receipt  of  a  bullet  from  the  sentinels  hidden 
in  the  bushes  which  defended  the  approach  to  the  colony  on  the  river  side. 
But  this  danger  was  as  nothing  compared  with  the  others  to  which  we  have 
alluded.  There  was  every  reason  for  assuming  that  the  French,  aroused  by 
the  flames,  would  direct  all  their  attention  to  the  land  side.  Besides,  Don 
Martial  believed  he  had,  nothing  to  fear  from  the  sentries,  who  would  proba- 
bly have  been  withdrawn. 

At  a  signal  from  Don  Martial,  Cuchares  took  up  the  paddles,  and  they 
started.  '  The  fire  was  rapidly  retiring  in  a  western  direction  while  continu- 
ing its  ravages.  The  canoe  advanced  slowly  and  cautiously  through  the  innu- 
merable objects  which  each  moment  checked  its  progress. 

Cuchares,  pale  as  a  corpse,  with  hair  standing  on  end,  and  eyes  enlarged  by 
terror,  rowed  on  frenziedly,  while  recommending  his  soul  fervently  to  all  the 
numberless  saints  of  the  Spanish  calendar,  for  he  was  more  than  ever  con- 
vinced that  he  would  never  emerge  in  safety  from  the  enterprise  on  which 
he  had  so  foolishly  entered. 

In  fact,  the   position  was  a  grave   one,  and  it    required  all   the   resolution 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  89 

with  which  the  Tigrero  was  endowed,  as  well  as  the  excitement  caused  by 
the  object  lie  h«-p"d  t.>  attain,  to  keep  him  from  sharing  the  terror  which  had 
seized  on  his  emnrade.  The  further  they  advanced  the  greater  the  obstacles 
grew.  Obliged  to  make  contimu'd  turns,  in  consequence  of  the  trees/ that 
barred  their  passage,  they  only  turned  on  their  own  axis,  as  it  were,  forced 
to  pass  the  same  spot  a  do/en  times,  and  watch  on  all  sides  at  once,  not  to  be 
sunk  by  the  objects,  either  visible  OP  invisible,  which  incessantly  rose  before 
them. 

For»about  two  hours  they  continued  this  wearying   navigation  ;  but  they 

.-ilny  approached    the  hacienda,  whose  sombre   mass  stood  out  from  tho 

.star-lit  >ky.     Suddenly  a  terrible   cry,  raised   by  a  considerable    number  of 

v.iiivs,  filled  the   air,  and  a  discharge  of  artillery  and   musketry  roared  like 

thunder. 

'•  Holy  Virgin  !"  Cuchares  exclaimed,  letting  go  the  paddles  and  clasping 
his  hands,  "  we  are  lost  !" 

••  On  the  contrary,"  the  Tigrero  said,  "  we  are  saved.  The  Indians  are  at- 
tacking the  colony  ;  all  the  French  are  at  the  entrenchments,  and  no  one 
will  dream  of  watching  us.  Bold,  my  good  boy  !  One  more  good  pull,  and 
all  will  be  . 

••  May  (tod  hear  you!"  the  lepero  muttered,  beginning  to  paddle  again  with 
u  trembling  hand. 

"  Ah  !  the  attack  is  serious,  it  appears.  All  the  better.  The  harder  they 
fight  over  there,  the  less  attention  will  be  paid  us.  Let  us  go  on." 

The  two  adventurers,  hidden  in  the  shade,  paddled  on  silently,  and  gradu- 
ally approached  the  hacienda.  Don  Martial  looked  searchingly  around  :  all 
was  silent  in  this  part  of  the  river,  which  was  half  a  pistol-shot  distant  from 
the  building.  There  was  no  reason  for  supposing  that  they  had  been  seen. 
The  Tigrero  bent  over  his  companion. 

"  That  will  do,"  he  whispered  ;  "  we  have  arrived." 

"  What !  arrived  ?"  the  lepero  repeated  with  a  frightened  air.  "  We  aro 
still  a  long  way  off." 

"  No ;  at  the  spot  where  we  now  are,  whatever  may  happen,  you  have  no- 
thing to  fear.  Remain  in  the  canoe,  fasten  it  to  one  of  the  stumps  that  sur- 
round you,  and  wait  for  me." 

"  What  !  are  you  going  away  ?" 

t:  Yes  •  I  shall  leave  you  for  an  hour  or  two.  Keep  a  good  watch.  If  you 
notice  anything  new  you  will  imitate  the  cry  of  the  water-hen  twice  :  }*ou 
understand  ?" 

"  Perfectly  ;  but  if  a  serious  danger/  threatened  us  what  ought  I  to  do?1 

The  Tigrero  reflected  for  an  instant. 

"What  danger  can  threat'-n  y«>u  here?"  he  said. 

t;  I  do  not  know  ;  but  the  Indians  are  ficiids  incarnate:  with  them  you 
must  be  prepared  for  anything." 

"  You  are  right.  Well,  in  case  of  any  serious  danger  threatening  us — but 
only  in  that  case,  you  understand — after  giving  your  signal,  you  \vill  put 
across  to  that  point.  Mangroves  grow  there,  under  the  shelter  of  which  you 
will  be  perfectly  safe,  and  I  will  join  you  immediately." 

"  Very  good:  but  how  shall  I  pnow  where  to  find  you  ?" 

"  I  will  imitate  twice  the  bark  of  the  prairie  dog.     Now,  be  prudent." 

"  You  may  be  sure  of  that." 

The  Tigrero  took  off  all  the  articles  of  clothing  that  might  embarrass  him 
such  as  hU  zarape  and  betas  vaqueras,  only  keeping  on  his  trons-rs  and  vest, 
put  his  knife  in  his  belt,  made  up  his  pistol",  rifte,  and  cartouche  box  in  a 
packet,  and  imitated  the  song  of  the  maukawes.  Presently  a  similar  sound 
rose  from  the  bank.  The  Tigrero  then  held  his  weapons  over  his  head,  and 
glided  gently  into  the  water.  The  lepero  soon  perceived  him  swimming  si- 


90  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

lently  and  vigorously  in  the  direction  of  the  hacienda  j  but  the  Tigrero  was 
gradually  lost  in  the  distance. 

As  soon  as  he  was  alone  Cuphares  began  to  inspect  his  weapons  carefully, 
changing  the  caps  so  as  to  be  ready  for  anything,  and  run  no  risk  of  being 
taken  unawares  ;  then,  reassured  by  the  calmness  that  prevailed  around,  htr 
lay,  down  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  in  spite  of  the  Tigrero's  recommenda- 
tions, and  got  ready  for  a  nap. 

The  noise  of  the  combat  had  gradually  died  away — neither  shouts  nor  shots 
could  be  heard,  The  Indians,  repulsed  by  the  colonists,  had  given  up  their 
attack.  The  flames  of  the  fire  became  less  and  less  bright.  .  The  desert  ap- 
peared to  have  fallen  back  into  its  ordinary  silence  and  solitude. 

The  lepero,  lying  on  his  back  at  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  gazed  at  the  bril- 
liant stars,  glittering  in  the  azure  sky.  Gently  cradled  by  the  rippling,  his 
eyes  closed.  At  length  he  reached  that  point  which  is  neither  sleeping  nor 
waking,  and  would  probably  soon  have  fallen  asleep.  At  the  moment,  how- 
ever, when  he  was  going  to  yield  to  his  feelings,  he  cast  a  parting  sleepy 
glance  over  the  river.  He  shuddered,  repressed  with  difficulty  a  cry  of  ter- 
rer,  and  started  up  so  violently  that  he  almost  upset  the  canoe.  , 

Cuchares  had  had  a  fearful  vision  :  he  rubbed  his  eyes  vigorously  to  assure 
himself  that  he  was  really  awake,  and  looked  again.  What  he  had  taken  for 
a  vision  was  only  too  real ;  he  had  seen  correctly. 

We  have  said  that  the  river  carried  with  it  a  large  number  of  stumps  and 
dead  trees  still  laden  with  their  branches.  During  the  last  hour  an  enormous 
quantity  of  these  trees  had  collected  round  the  canoe,  the  lepero  being  quite 
unable  to  account  for  the  fact,  the  more  so  because  these  trees,  which,  by  the 
natural  laws  should  have  followed  the  current  and  descended  with  it,  cut  it 
in  every  direction,  and,  instead  of  keeping  to  the  centre  of  the  river,  drew 
constantly  nearer  to  the  bank  on  which  stood  the  hacienda. 

More  extraordinary  still,  the  progress  of  this  floating  wood  was  so,  careful- 
ly regulated  that  all  converged  on  one  point — the  extremity  of  the  Isthmus 
at  the  back  of  the  hacienda.  Another  alarming  fact  was,  that  Cuchares  saw 
eyes  flashing  and  frightful  faces  peering  out  from  amidst  this  raft  of  interlaced 
branches,  stumps  and  trees. 

There  was  no  room  for  doubt :  each  tree  carried  at  least  one  Apache. 
The  Indians,  having  failed  in  their  attempt  on  one  side,  hoped  to  surprise 
the  colony  from  the  river,  nnd  were  swimming  up  concealed  by  the  trees,  in 
the  midst  of  which  they  had  collected.  The  lepero's  position  was  perplex- 
ing. Up  to  this  moment  the  Indians,  busied  with  their  plans,  had  paid  no 
attention  to  the  canoe  ;  or,  if  theyhad  noticed  it,  thought  that  it  belonged  to 
one  of  their  party ;  but  the  error  might  be  detected  at  any  moment,  and 
the  lepero  knew  that,  in  such  a  case,  he  would  be  hopelessly  lost. 

Already,  more  than  once,  hands  had  been  laid  for  a  few  seconds  on  the 
sides  of  a  frail  boat ;  but,  by  some  providental  chance,  the  owners  of  those 
hands  had  not  thought  of  looking  in  to  the  interior  of  the  canoe. 

All  these  reflections,  and  many  others,  Cuchares  indulged  in  while  lying 
apparently  most  comfortably  at  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  gently  balanced 
by  the  ripple,  and  watching  the  brilliant  stare  defile  above  his  head.  With 
his  features  distorted  by  terror,  his  face  blanched,  and  holding  a  pistol  butt 
convulsively  clutched  in  either  hand,  while  mentally  recommending  himself 
to  his  patron  saint,  he  awaited  the  catastrophe  'wrhich  every  passing  minute 
rendered  more  imminent. 

He  had  not  long  to  wait. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  91 

C  H  A  P  T  K  II     XIV. 

THE      INDIAN         TRICK, 

A.MOM.  ;  .uih'u  nations  t hut  wander  about  the   deserts    contained 

in  the  delta  fanned  b  <Iihi,  the  Ki.»   del    Norte,  and   the   Colorado, 

two  chum  They  are  the  Apaches  and Comar. 

.  other,  th  tioas 

MOW  allied  l>y  a  common  hatred  of  the  white  men,  and  all  that  bei 
• 

.  intrepid  horsemen,  cruel  and  pitiless  warriors,  the 
.ire  terrible  neighbors  for  the  inhabitants  of  >'• 
.:•.  at  the  *ame  period,  these  ferocious  warriors  ru>h  by  thou- 
from  tlu-i;  liy  fording  or  .swimming,  and  invade 

the  Mexican  frontiers  at   several    points,  burning  and   plundering    all 

.  ,•  off  women  and   children   into   slavery,  and   spreading 
i  error  for  more  than  twenty  leagues  into  a  civilised  territory. 
1  of  the  Spanish  rule  it  was  not  so.     Numerous  mi>-i<.ns,  pro- 
ved at  regular  distances,  and   bodies  of  troops   scattered 
the  entire  frontier,  repulsed  the  attacks  of  the  Indians,  drove  them  ba«-k 
and  kept  them  within  the  limits  of  their  hunting-grounds^,  but  since  the  pro- 
clamation of  their  independence  th<  -have    had   so  much   to   do  in 
cutti;                 tier's  throats,  and  tr:nnjiling  morality  under  foot  by  their  in 
.  .>lution,  that  the  posts  have  been  called  in,  the   missions  plunder- 
ed, the  presidios  abandoned,  and   the   frontiers   left   to   guard   them.M 
The  result  has  been  that  the  Indians  gradually  drew  nearer,  and  finding  no 
; -tance  before  them — for  the  very  simple  reason  that  the  Mexican 
/nment    forbids,  under    heavy  penalties,  any  fire-arms   being   given   to 
civilised  Indians,   who   alone  could  tight  successfully  against  tht>   invaders — 
the  savages  have  nearly  reconquered  in  a  few  years  what  Spain,  in   her  om- 
nipotence, took  ages  in  wresting  from  them.     The  result  of  this  is   that  the 
fertile  country  in  the  world  remains  unfilled ;  not  a  step  can  be  taken 
in  this  h;-.pl«  ss  country  without  stumbling  on  still   smoking  ruins;  and   the 
boldne.-s  of  the  savages  has  so  increased,  that  they  now  do  not  even   take 
the  trouble  to   hide  their   expeditions,    which   they  make   annually  at  the 

!y  on   the   same   day,  and  that   the 
month  is  called  by  them  in    derision  the    tt  Mexican  Moon;'1  that  is  t<> 

m  during  which  th  •  '  an-  plun.! 

All  the    ads  we  narrate  heiv    wi.-ild    In-  ln-i-ilit  of  buffoonery  u 
not  a!  :ht  of  atrocity. 

The  lilack  I:  ration    to  which  he    had 

previously  alluded,  for  the  purpose  of  restoring    himself  iu    the  civdit  ... 
fellow-countrymen.  -  nil  unsuccessful  expeditions  had  turned  r.gainst 

him.  Like  all  Indian  chiefs  of  any  landing,  he  was  ambitious.  !!«•  had  al- 
ready succeeded  in  Destroying  several  smaller  tribes,  and  incoi  tiiem 
with  his  nation  :  he  now  a-pired  to  nothing  less  than  humbling  the  Couian- 
ches,  and  compelling  them  to  recognise  his  authority.  It  was  a  difficult,  if 
not  impossible,  :  for  the  Comanche  nation  is  ju>tl;  -ed  as 
the  most  warlike  and  dangerous  in  the  desert.  This  nation,  ;<>udly 
calls  itself  the  Queen  of  the  Prairies,  can  hardly  endure  the  presence  of 
the  Apaches  on  the  ground  they  consider  belonging  to  t!  form- 
ing their  hunting  territory.  The  Comanches  have  an  immense  a4rantage 
over  the  other  prairie  Indians — an  advantage  which  causes  their  strength, 
and  makes  them  so  terrible  to  the  nations  they  combat.  Owing  to  the  pre- 
caution they  have  taken  of  never  drinking  spirit  -'-aped  the 
general  degradation  and  most  of  the  diseases  which  decimate  the  other  In- 
dians, and  have  remained  vigorous  and  intelligent. 


92  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

The  Jester  like  the  Black  Bear,  had  no  great  faith  in  the  duration  of  the 
alliance  formed  between  the  two  nations :  the  hatred  he  bore  the  -Apaches 
was,  indeed,  too  profound  for  h'irn  to  desire  it  ;  but  the  foundation  of  the 
Guetzalli  colony  by  the  French,  by  permanently  establishing  the  white  men, 
on  a  territory  they  regarded  as  belonging  to  themselves,  was  a  too  serious 
menace  for  the  Comanches  and  other  Indios  Bravos,  and  they  attempted 
every  possible  scheme  to  get  rid  of  these  troublesome  neighbors.  Hence 
they  had  temporarily  hung  up  their  old  rancor  and  private  enmities  on  be- 
half of  the  general  welfare,  but  for  that,  only  so  soon  as  strangers  were  ex- 
pelled, each  nation  would  be  free  to  act  as  it  pleased. 

We  have  seen  in  what  way  the  Jester  began  hostilties.  The  Black  Bear 
had  a  scheme  which  he  had  been  ripening  for  a  long  time,  though  not  pos- 
sessing the  means  to  put  it  in  execution ;  but  knowing  where  to  obtain  the 
information  he  needed,  he  went  to  Guaymas.  The  Tigrero,  by  proposing  to 
him  to  enter  the  colony  as  a  guide,  had  unsuspectingly  supplied  him  with 
the  pretext  he  sought.  Thus,  during  the  few  hours  he  spent  at  the  hacien- 
da, he  had  not  lost  his  time,  and  with  that  cunning  peculiar  to  the  Indians, 
discovered  all  the  weak  points  of  the  place. 

There  was  another  reason  to  inflame  his  desire  to  seize  the  haciena.  Like 
all  the  red-skins,  his  dream  was  to  have  a  white  woman  in  his  lodge.  Fa- 
tality, by  bringing  Ijirn  across  Donna  Anita,  had  suddenly  re-kindled  the  se- 
cret hope  he  entertained,  and  made  him  suppose  he  would  at  length  possess 
the  woman  he  sought  so  long  without  being  able  to  find  her. 

It  must  not  be  thought  that  the  Black  Bear  loved  the  Spanish  maiden  : 
no  he  wanted  a  white  squaw,  that  was  all.  He  was  humiliated  by  the 
knowledge  that  the  other  chiefs  of  his  nation  had  slaves  of  that  colour,  while 
he  alone  had  none.  Had  Donna  Anita  been  ugly,  he  would  have  tried  to 
carry  her  off  all  the  same.  She  was  lovely — all  the  better  ;  and  we  may 
add  here  that  the  Apache  chief  did  not  consider  her  beautiful.  According 
to  his  Indian  notions  she  was  passable,  that  was  all;  the  only  thing  he  valued 
in  her  was  her  colour. 

The  Black  Bear,  standing  with  his  principal  warriors  on  the  point  of  the 
island,  remained  silent,  with  his  arms  crossed  on  his  chest,  his  eyes  fixed  on 
vacancy,  till  the  moment  when  the  first  gleams  of  the  fire  kindled  by  the 
Jester  tinged  the  horizon  with  a  blood-red  hue. 

"  My  brother,  the  Jester,  is  an  experienced  chief,"  he  said,  "  and  a  faithful 
ally.  He  has  well  fulfilled  the  mission  intrusted  to  him.  He  is  now  smok- 
ing the  pale-face  dogs.  What  the  Comanches  have  begun  the  Apaches  will 
finish." 

"  The  Black  Bear  is  the  first  warrior  of  his  nation."  the  Little  Panther 
replied.  "  Who  would  dare  to  contend  with  him  ?" 

The  Indian  Sachem  smiled  at  this  flattery. 

"  If  the  Comanches  are  antelopes,  the  Apaches  are  otters  ;  they  can,  if 
they  please,  swim  in  the  water,  or  march  on  land.  The  pale-faces  have  lived. 
The  Great  Spirit  is  in  me  ;  it  is  He  who  dictates  to  me  the  words  my  tongue 
utters." 

The  warriors  bowed.  The  Black  Bear  continued,  after  a  moment's  si- 
lence : — 

"What  do  the  Apache  warriors  care  for  the  fire  tubes  of  the  pale-faces  1 
Have  they  not  long,  barbed  arrows  and  intrepid  heart  ?  My  brothers  will 
follow  me  ;  we  will  take  the  scalps  of  these  pale  dogs,  and  fasten  them  to 
our  horses'  manes,  and  their  wives  shall  be  our  slaves." 

Shouts  of  joy  and  enthusiasm  greeted  these  words. 

"  The  river  is  covered  with  numerous  trunks  of  trees  :  my  sons  are  not 
squaws  to  fatigue  themselves  uselessly.  They  will  place  themselves  on  these 
dead  trees,  and  drift  with  the  current  down  to  the  great  lodge  of  the  pale- 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  93 

faces.  Let  my  brothers  prepare.  The  Black  Bear  will  set  out  at  the  sixth 
hour,  when  the  blue  jay  has  sung  twice,  and  the  walkon  has  uttered  its  shrill 
cry.  I  have  ipokeu.  'Two  hundred  warriors  will  follow  the  Black  Bear." 

The  chiefs  bowed  respectfully  be  lure  the  sachem,  and  left  him  alone.  Ho 
wrapped  hiiu>elf  up  in  his  buffalo  robe.  >at  down  by  the  tire,  lit  his  calumet 
bv  means  of  a  medicine  staff  adorned  with  bells  and  feathers,  and  remained 
silent,  with  his  eyes  lixed  on  the  gradually  extending  prairie  lire. 

The   island    in  which    the  Apache    chief  had  formed  his   camp  was    at  no 

great  di.-tance  from  the  French  colony.     The  project  of  floating  down  had  no 

_:.  at  danger  for  these   men,  accustomed  to  every  sort   of  bodily  exer- 

nd  who  swam  like  fish  :   it  possessed  the  great  advantage  of  completely 

.ding  the  approach  of  the  warriors  hidden  by  the  water  and  tin- branches, 

and  svJio,  at  the  proper  moment,  would  rush  on  the   colon}'  like  a  swarm  of 

lami-hed  vultures. 

The  ar  was  so  convinced  of  the  success  of  this   stratagem,  which 

only  an  Indian  brain  could  have  conceived,  that  he  only  took  with  him  two 
hundred  eho>en  men,  thinking  it  unnecessary  to  lead  more  against  enemies 
taken  by  surprise,  and  who,  compelled  to  defend  themselves  against  the  Co- 
1  by  the  Je.ster,  would  be  attacked  in  the  rear  and  massacred  be- 
fore they  had  time  to  look  around  them. 

tit  sets  in  rapidly  and  suddenly  in  countries  where  the  twilight  does 
.-er  than  a  lightning  flash.  Soon  all  became  darkness,  save  that, 
in  the  distance,  a  wide  strip  of  coppery  red  annouced  the  progress  of  the 
flame-;,  behind  which  the  (Vinam-hes  galloped  like  a  pack  of  hideous  wrolves 
over  the  still  glowing  earth,  trampling  under  their  horses'  hoofs  the  charred 
wood  which  was  stiH  smouldering. 

When  thcJBIack  Bear  considered  the  moment  had  arrived  he  put  out  his 
cal'imet,  scattered  the  fire,  and  gave  a  signal  perfectly  well  understood  by 
the  Little  Panther,  who  was  watching  to  execute  the  orders  the  chief  might 
be  pleased  to  give.  Almost  immediately  the  two  hundred  warriors  selected 
for  the  expedition  made  their  appearance.  Jhey.  were  all  picked  men,  armed 
with  clubs  and  lances,  while  their  shields  hung  on  their  backs.  After  a  mo- 
ment's silence,  employed  by  the  sachem  in  a  species  of  inspection,  he  said  in 
a  deep  voice  : — 

••  We  are  about  to  set  out  ;  the  pale-faces  we  are  destined  to  fight  are  not 
Yoris  :  they  are  said  to  be  very  brave,  but  the  Apaches  are  the  bravt-t  war- 
rior ^  in  thc'world  ;  noon,' can.  .iinstthem.  My  sons  may  be  killed, 
but  they  will  conq-i 

"  The  warriors  will  suffer  themselves  to  be  killed,"  the  Indians  replied 
with  one  voice. 

'•  Wah  !"  the    Black    Bear  continued,  "  my  sons   have   spoken    well  ;  the 
Black  Bear  has  confidence  in  them.     Waeondah  will  not  abandon  them  ;  he 
the  ivd  men.     And  now,  my  sons,  we  will  collect   the  dead  trees  float- 
ing  on  the    river,  and  float  down  the    current  with    them.     The    cry  of  the 
condor  will  be  their  signal  to  m<h  on  the  pale-faces." 

The  Indians  immediately  began  executing  their  chiefs  orders.  All  strove 
to  reach  the  trunks  of  trees  or  stumps.  In  a  few  moments  a  considerable 
quantity  was  collected  near  the  point  of  the  island.  The  Black  Bear  turned 
a  parting  glance  around,  gave  the  signal  for  departure,  and  was  the  first  to 
•  nter  the  water  and  clamber  on  a  tree.  All  the  rest  followed  him  imme- 
diately without  the  slightest  hesitation. 

The  Apaches  behaved  so  cleverly  in  bringing  the  tree  trunks  to  the  island, 
and  had  chosen  their  position  so  well,  that  when  they  set  the  trees  in  mo- 
tion again  they  almost  immediately  struck  the  current,  and  began  to  follow 
the  river  gently,  drifting  imperceptibly  in  the  direction  of  the  colony  where 
they  wished  to  land. 


94  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

Still  tliis  navigation,  so  essentially  eccentric,  offered  grave  inconveniences 
and  even  serious  dangers  to  those  who  undertook  it.  The  Indians,  left  with- 
out paddles  on  the  trees,  were  obliged  to  follow  the  stream,  only  succeeding 
in  holding  on  by  extraordinary  efforts.  Like  all  wood  floating  at  the  mercy 
of  the  waves,  the  trees  continually  revolved,  compelling  those  holding  on  to 
them  to  employ  all  their  strength  and  skill,  lest  they  might  be  submerged 
at  every  moment.  There  was  another  difficulty,  too  :  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  keep  in  the  water,  so  as  to  give  the  trees  the  proper  direction 
and  make  them  reach  the  colony,  instead  of  following  the  current  in  the 
middle  of  the  stream.  A  further  inconvenience,  not  the  least  grave  of  all, 
was  that  the  trees  on  which  the  Apaches  were  mounted  met  others  as  they 
floated  along,  against  which  they  struck,  or  their  branches  became  so  inter- 
laced that  it  was  impossible  to  part  them,  and  they  had  to  be  taken  on  as 
well ;  so  that,  at  the  end  of  half  an  hour,  an  immense  raft  was  formed,  which 
appeared  to  occupy  the  entire  width  of  the  river. 

The  Indians  are  obstinate  :  when  they  have  undertaken  an  expedition  they 
never  give  it  up  till  it  is  irrevocably  proved  to  them  that  success  is  impossi- 
ble. This  happened  on  the  present  occasion  ;  several  men  were  drowned, 
others  wounded  so  severely  that  they  were  compelled  to  regain  the  bank 
against  their  will.  The  others,  however,  held  on  ;  and,  encouraged  by  their 
chief,  who  did  not  cease  addressing  them,  them,  they  continued  to  descend 
the  river. 

Long  before  the  island  from  which  they  set  out  had  disappeared  behind 
them  in  the  windings  formed  by  the  irregular  course  of  the  river ;  the  point 
on  which  the  buildings  of  the  colony  stood  appeared  but  a  short  way  ahead, 
when  the  Black  Bear,  who  was  at  the  head  of  the  party,  and  whose  piercing 
eye  incessantly  surveyed  the  scene  around,  noticed  a  canoe  a  few  yards  ahead 
attached  to  a  dead  stump,  gracefully  dancing  on  the  water. 

This  canoe  at  once  appeared  suspicious  to  the  cautious  Indian.  It  did  not 
seem  natural  to  him  that,  at  such  an  advanced  hour  of  the  night,  any  boat 
should  be  thus  tied  iip  in  the  river  :  but  the  Black  Bear  was  a  man  of  prompt 
decision,  whom  nothing  embarrassed,  and  who  rapidly  formed  his  plans.  Af- 
ter carefully  examining  this  mysterious  canoe,  still  stationary  before  him,  he 
stooped  over  to  the  Little  Panther,  who  hung  on  to  the  same  tree  in  readi- 
ness to  execute  his  orders,  and,  placing  his  knife  between  his  teeth,  the  chief 
unloosed  his  hold  and  dived.  He  rose  again  near  the  canoe,  seized  it  boldly, 
pulled  it  over,  and  leaped  in  right  on  Cuchares'  chest  and  seized  him  by  the 
throat.  This  movement  was  executed  so  rapidly  that  the  lepero  could  not 
employ  his  weapons,  and  found  himself  completely  at  the  mercy  of  his  ene- 
my before  he  understood  what  had  occurred. 

"  Wall  !"  the  Indian  exclaimed  with  surprise  on  recognising  him.  "  What 
is  my  brother  doing  here  ?" 

The  lepero  had  also  recognised  the  chief,  and,  without  knowing  why,  this 
restored  him  a  slight  degree  of  courage. 

"  You  see,"  he  answered,  "  I  am  sleeping." 

"  Wall  !  -my  brother  was  afraid  of  the  fire,  and  for  that  reason  took  to  the 
river." 

"  Quite  right,  chief ;  you  have  hit  it  the  first  time.  I  was  afraid  of  the 
fire." 

"  Good  !"  the  Apache  continued,  with  a  mocking  smile  peculiar  to  himself. 
"  My  brother  is  not  alone.  Where  is  the  Great  Buffalo  ?" 

"  Eh  ?  I  do  not  know  the  Great  Buffalo,  chief.  I  don't  even  know  whom 
you  are  talking  about.' 

"  All  the  pale-faces  have  a  forked  tongue.  Why  docs  not  my  brother 
speak  the  truth  ?" 

"  I  am  quite  willing  to  do  so,  bat  I  do  not  understand  you." 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  95 

"  The  Black  Bear  \pacho  warrior  ;  ho  can  speak^the  language  of 

his  nation,  but  lie  knows  l>;i<lly  that  of  the  Y 

"  I  did  not  mean  that.  i'  excellently  in  Castillian,  but 

you  art-  speaking  of  a  person  I  do  not  know." 

"Wall!  is    that   }  the   Indian    >aid,    with  feigned   amazement. 

"Dot-s  n.  »t  inv  brother  know  the  warrior  with  whom  ho  was  two  days  ago?" 

"  0  !  now  I  understand  ;  you  are  talking  of  Don  Martial.     Yes,  cert  . 
I  know  him." 

"  Good !"  the  chief  replied  ;  "  I  knew  that  I  was  not  mistaken.     Why  is 
my  brother  not  with  him  at  this  moment  ?" 

•  >hal>ly  because  I  am  here,"  the  lepero  said  with  a  grin. 

••  That  is  true  ;  but  as  I  am  in  a  hurry,  and  my  brother  does  not  wish  to 
answer  n;e,  I  am  going  to  kill  him." 

ing  this  in  a  tone  which  admitted  of  no  tergiversation,  the  Black  Bear 
knife.     The  lepero  saw  well  enough  that,  if  he  did  not  obey  the  In- 
dian. .  and  his  hesitation  ceased  as  if  by  enchantment. 

••  What  do  you  want  of  me  ?'  he  said. 

"  The  truth.'' 

"  Question  me.'' 

-  Will  my  brother  answer  V 
«  Y. 

"  Good  !    Where  is  the  Great  Buffalo  ? 

.••re,"  he  said,  pointing  in  the  direction  of  the  hacienda. 
••  Ho-.v  long  ?" 
'•  For  more  than  an  hoiy." 
"  For  what  reason  has  he  gone  there  ?" 

m  guess." 

"  Yes.     Are  they  together  ?" 
"  They  ought  to  be  so.  as  .she  called  him  to  her." 
••  W.i!i  !  a.i-1  when  will  he  return  ?" 
••  1  do  not  know." 

-  II"  did  not  tell  my  brother  ? 
-\ 

••Will  he  come  back  alone  ?"  ( 

"  I  do  not  kn 

The  Indian  fixed  a  glance  on  him,  as  if  trying  to  read  his  vCry  heart.    The 

•aim  :  he  had  honestly  told  aU  he  knew. 

. .  >od  !"  the  chief  continued  the  next  i  "  Did  not  the  Great  Buf 

tal<>  :  -ignal  with  his  friend,  in  order  to  rejoin  when  he  pleased  ?" 

that  ftigi 

At  ;  ion  a  singular  idea  crossed  Cuchares' brain.    The  leperos  be- 

long to  a  strange  rac^,  which  only  bears  a  likeness  to  the 
ni.     At  once  prodigal  and  avaricious,  greedy  and  dish:  -uely 

•d  cowards,  they  are  the  strangest  medley  of  all  that  is  good 
'  .id.     In  them  everything  is   blunted   and  imperfect.     They 
i-t  on  the  impulse  of  the  moment,  without  reflection,  or  passion.     I 
nal  mocke.  iieve  in  nothing  and  yet  believe  in  everything.     To  sum 

them  rd,  their  life  is  a  constant  antithesis  ;  and  for  a  jest  which 

may  c<M    their  life  they  would  sacrifice  their  most  devoted  friend,  just  :»s 

will  save  him. 

Cuchares  was  a  perfect  personification  of  this  eccentric  race.  Though  tin 
Apache  chiefs  knife  was  scarce  two  inches  from  his  breast,  and  he  knew  that 
his  ferocious  enemy  would  show  him  no  mercy,  he  suddenly  resolved  to  play 
him  a  trick,  no  matter  the  cost.  We  will-not  add  in  this  friendship  for  Don 
Martial  unconsciously  pleaded  on  hi?  behalf,  for  we  repeat  that  the  lepero 


96  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

feels  no  friendship  for  any  one,  not  even  himself,  and  that  his  heart  only  ex- 
ists in  the  shape  of  bowels. 

"  The  chief  \vishes  to  know  the  signal  7"  he  said. 

"  Yes,"  the  Apache  replied, 

Cuchares,  with  the  utmost  coolness,  imitated  the  cry  of  the  'water-hen. 

"  Silence  !"  the  Black  Bear  exclaimed-;  "it  is  not  that." 

"  Pardon/'  the  lepero  replied  with  a  grin  ;  "  perhaps  I  gave  it  badly,"  and 
he  repeated  it. 

The  Indian,  roused  by  his  enemy's  impudence,  rushed  upon  him,  resolved 
to  finish  him  with  his  knife  ;  but,  blirrded  by  his  fury,  he  calculated  badly, 
and  gave  too  violent  an  oscillation  to  the  canoe.  The  light  bark,  whose  equi- 
librium was  disturbed,  turned  over,  and  the  two  men  rolled  into  the  river. 
Once  in  the  water,  the  lepero,  who  swam  like  an  otter,  set  off  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  hacienda  as  fast  as  he  could  speed.  But  if  he  swam  well,  the 
Black  Bear  swam  at  least  equally  well.  The  first  movement  of  surprise 
overcome,  the  chief  almost  immediately  discovered  his  enemy's  trail. 

Then  began  the  two  men  a  contest  of  skill  and  strength.  Perhaps  it 
would  have  ended  to  the  advantage  of  the  white  man,  who  had  a  considera- 
ble start,  had  not  several  warriors,  witnesses  of  what  had  occurred,  swum 
off  too,  and  cut  off  the  fugitive's  retreat.  Cuchares  saw  that  flight  was  im- 
possible ;  henco,  not  attempting  to  continue  a  hopeless  struggle,  he  proceeded 
towards  a  tree,  to  which  he  clung,  and  Awaited  with  magnificent  coolness 
whatever  might  happen. 

'  The   Black  Bear  soon  came   up  with  him.     The  chief  displayed  no  ill- 
temper  at  the  trick  the  lepero  had  played  him. 

"  Wah  !"  he  merely  said,  "my  brother  is  a  warrior:  he  has  the  craft  of  the 
opossum." 

"  Of  what  use  is  it  to  me,"  Cuchares  answered  carelessly,  "  if  I  cannot 
ucceed  in  saving  my  scalp '?" 

"  Perhaps,"  the  Indian  said.  "  Let  my  brother  tell  me  where  the  Great 
Buffalo  is." 

"  I  have  already  told  you,  chief." 

"  Yes,  my  brother  told  me  that  his  friend  was  in  the  great  lodge  of  the 
pale-faces,  but  he  did  not  say  at  what  place." 

"  Hum  !  and  if  I  tell  you  shall  I  be  free  ?" 

"  YPS,  if  my  brother  has  not  a  forked  tongue :  if  he  speaks  the  truth,  so 
soon  as  we  land  on  the  bank,  he  will  be  free  to  go  where  he  pleases." 

"  A  poor  favor !"  the  lepero  muttered,  shaking  his  head. 

"  Well,"  the  chief  continued,  "  what  will  my  brother  do  ?" 

"My  faith  !"  Cuchares  said,  suddenly  making  up  his  mind,  "  I  have  done 
for  Don  Martial  all  it  was  humanly  possible  to  do.  Now  that  he  is  warned, 
each  for  himself.  I  must  save  my  skin.  Stay,  chief;  follow  the  direction 
of  my  finger.  You  see  those  mangroves  on  the  projecting  point  ?" 

"  I  see  them." 

"  Well,  behind  those  mangroves  you  will  find  the  man  you  call  the  Great 
Buffalo." 

'  "  Good  !     The  Black  Bear  is  a  chief-  he  has  only  one  word  ;  the  pale-face 
shall  be  free." 

"  Thanks." 

The  conversation  was  hurriedly  broken  off,  more  especially  as  the  Apaches 
vrere  rapidly  approaching  the  banks.  They  had  let  go  of  the  most  of  the 
trees  to  which  they  had  hitherto  been  clinging,  and  were  collected  in  small 
groups  of  ten  or  twelve  on  the  larger  trees. 

The  hacienda  was  silent ;  n<jt  a  light  burned  there  ;  all  was  calm  ;  it  looked 
like  a  deserted"  habitation.  This  profound  tranquility  excited  the  suspicious 
»{'  the  Black  Bear-  it  seemed  to  forbode  an  impending  storm.  Before  risk- 


THE   Tl<:  KR-SLA  YER.  97 

ing  a  landing  he  wished  to  assure  himself  positively  of  what  ho  had  to  ex- 
pect. He  uttered  tin-  cry  of  tin-  iguana,  and  swain  towards  tin-  hank.  The 
Apaches,  comprehended  their  chief's  intention,  and  stopped.  At  tin-  end  of  a 
few  moments  they  saw  him  crawling  >and.  'I'll--  I'. 

walked  a  l>-w  paces  along;   he  >aw  nothing,  heard   nothir  "Mipletely 

:red.  In-  returned  to  the  v.  .1  fur  landing. 

The  Apachi,.-  quitted  t;  _  m  Mviminiug.      (\chares  profited 

by  the  inouu-nt  of  di-  .-appear,  which  was  :«n  <-:i-y  matter.  a>  no  ono 

was  ti, inking  of  him.     Still   the  Apachei    formed   in  'inc.  and  swam 

vigorously  ;  in  a  few*  minutes  th  •  1  ti:e  bank.  ;url  landed  ;  then  I 

rushed  at  full  speed  towards  th    hacienda. 

-Fire!"  a  stentorian   voice  suddenlv  commanded.      A   loud   and    frightful 
discharge  instantaneously  followed.     '1'lie  Apaches  responded  by  howlings  i»f 
.-ind  tiiemselves  surprised  l>y  theni'-n  tiiey  liad  hoped  to  surprise,  rushed 
upon  them,  brandishing  their  \ 


CHAPTER    XV. 

SET  A  THIEF  TO  CATCH  A  THIEF. 

WE  will  now  return  to  the  hunters,  whom  we  have  too  long  neulerted,  for 
during  the  events  we  have  IKTII  narrating  they  had  not  remained  entirely 
inactive. 

After  the  departure  of  the  two  Mexicans,  Tielhnmeur  and  his  friend-  re- 
mained silent  for  an  instant.  The  Canadian  played  with  the  charcoal  that 
hud  fallen  from  the  brazier  on  to  the  ground;  in  fact,  he  was  lust  in  thought. 
I>'>n  Louis,  with  his  chin  r< -ti:m  on  the  palm  o.'  his  hand,  was  watching  with 
distraught  air  the  sparkles  which  crackled,  gli>tened,  and  went  out.  Kagle- 
liead,  alone  of  the  party,  wrapped  up  in  his  bulfalo  robe,  smoked  his  calumet 
with  that  stoieMn  and'ealm  appearance  which  belong  exclusively  to  hi»  race. 

"  However  it  may  be,"  the  ('anadian  suddenly  Mud, replying  to  the  ideas 
which  bothered  him.  and  thinking  aloud  rather  than  intending  to  ivncw  the 
conversation,  "the  conduct  of  those  two  men  -eems  to  XDO  eXtraocdiliaiy, 
n-.t  to  -ay  -"met lung  else.'1 

••  U'ould  you  suspect  any  treachery?"  Don  I,o'iUa-ked,  looking  up. 

'•  In  the  divert   >"'i  mu«t  al ".  iielhunieiir  >aid  pre- 

emptorily,  i%  especially  from  chance  companions." 

mro,  tblfl  Don  M:.riial — that  is  his  name  I  think — has  a 
honest  eye.  my  friend,  to  be  a  traitor." 

"  That"  H  true  ;  still  you  will  agree  that  ever  since  we  first  met  him  hi* 
conduct  has  been  remarkably  q 

••  I  Lir.-'.nr  it  ;  but  you  know  a.s  well  as  I  how  much  passion  blinds  a  man. 
I  believe  him  to  be  in  love." 

-rill  notice,  pray,  that  in  all  this  affair  which  regards  hin; 
cially,  and  in  which  we  have  only  mixed  ourselves  to  do  him  a  pervice,  while 
neglecting  occupations,  he  has  always  kept  in  the  back-ground,  a>  if 

afraid  to  show  himself." 

At  this  moment  Hlas  Values,  after  stationing  the  peons  a  short  distance 
off,  so  as  to  remain  unseen,  came  up  and  took  his  <eat  by  the  1: 

"There!''  he  said,  '-all  is  ready:  the  Apaches  can  come  and  attack  us 
whenever  they  think  proper." 

"One  word,  cap-ita/.,"  Belhumeur  said. 

"  Two  if  you  like." 


98  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  Do  you  know  the  man  to  whom  you  delivered  a  letter  just  now  ?" 

<<.Why  do  you  ask  ?"  , 

"  To  gain  some  information  about  him." 

"  Personally  I  know  very  little  of  him.  All  I  can  tell  you  is  that  he  en- 
joys an  excellent  reputation  through  the  whole  province,  and  is  generally 
regarded  as  a  caballero  and  gallant  man." 

"  That  is  something,"  the  Canadian  muttered,  shaking  his  head  ;  "  \mt, 
for  all  that,  I  do  not  know  why,  but  his  sudden  departure  makes  me  very 
restless. 

"Wah !"  Eagle-head  suddenly  said,  withdrawing  from  his  lips  the  tube  of 
his  calumet,  and  bending  forward,  while  bidding  his  comrades  to  silence.  All 
remained  motionless,  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the  Indian. 

"  What  is  it  ?"  Belhumeur  at  length  asked. 

"  Fire,"  the  other  replied  slowly.  "  The  Apaches  are  ccimng :  they  are 
burning  the  prairie  before  them." 

"  What  ?"  Beihumeur  exclaimed,  rising  and  looking  all  around.  "  I  see 
no  trace  of  fire." 

"  No,  not  yet ;  but  the  fire  is  coming — I  can  smell  it." 

"  Hum  !  if  the  chief  says  so,  it  must  be  true  ;  he  is  too  experienced  a 
warrior  to  be  deceived.  What  is  to  be -done  ?" 

"  We  have  nothing  to  fear  from  fire  here,"  the  capataz  observed. 

"We  have  not,"  Don  Louis  quickly  exclaimed;  "but  the  inhabitants  of 
the  hacienda  ?" 

"  Not  more  than  we,"  Belhurnuer  replied.  "  See  all  the  trees  have  been 
cut  down,  and  rooted  up  to  too  great  a  distance  from  the  colony  for  the  fire 
to  reach  it ;  it  is  only  a  stratagem  employed  by  the  Indians  to  arrive  without 
being  counted." 

"  Stil  I  am  of  this  caballero's  opinion,"  the  capataz  said  ;  "  we  should  do 
well  to  warn  the  hacienda." 

"There  is  something  even  more  urgent  to  do,"  Don  Louis  said,  "and  that 
is  to  send  off  a  clever  scout  to  learn  positively  with  whom  we  have  to  deal, 
who  our  enemies  are,  if  they  are  numerous." 

"  One  does  not  prevent  the  other,"  Belhumeur  remarked.  "  In  a  case  like 
the  present,  two  precautions  are  worth  more  than  one.  This  is  my  advice. 
Eagle-head  will  reconnoitre  the  foe,  while  we  proceed  to  the  hacienda." 

"All  of  us?"  the  capataz  observed 

"  No ;  your  position  here  is  secure,  and  you  will  bo  able,  in  the,  event  of 
an  attack,  to  render  important  service.  Don  Louis  and  Iwill  proceed  alone 
to  the  colony.  Remember  that  you  must  not  show  yourselves  under  any 
pretext.  Whatever  may  happen,  await  the  order  for  acting.  Is  that  agreed 
to?51 

"  Go,  caballeros;  I  will  not  betray  your  confidence." 

c  Good  !  Now  to  work,  I  have  no  advice  to  offer  you,  chief:  you  will  find 
us  at  the  hacienda  if . you  learn  anything  of  importance." 

Upon  this  these  men,  so  long  accustomed  to  act  without  losing  precious 
time  in  useless  words,  separated ;  Don  Louis  and  .Belhumeur  returning  to 
the  main  land  on  the  side  of  the  hacienda,  while  the  chief  rode  off  in  the 
opposite  direction.  Bias  Vasquez  remained  alone  with  his  peons  ;  but  as  he 
had  been  for  many  years  accustomed  to  Indian  warfare,  and  understood  the 
responsibility  he  took  on  himself  from  this  moment,  he  felt  that  he  must 
redouble  his  vigilance.  Hence  he  posted  sentinels  at  every  point,  recom- 
mended them  the  utmost  attention,  came  back  to  the  brazier,  wrapped  him- 
self in  his  fressada,  and  went  quietly  to  sleep,  certain  that  his  men  would 
carefully  watch  all  that  took  place  on  the  main  land.  " 

We  will,  for  a  moment,  leave  Don  Louis  and  his  friend,  to  follow  Eaglo- 
head. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  99 

The  mission  the  chief  had  undertaken  was  anything   rather   than    easy ; 
hit    Karl-h-il    \\M-4   a   m  in    <>f,-\  i horoughly    versed    in    Indian 

(ricks,  and  endowed  with  that  unalterable  phlegm  which  is  a  -reat  ingredi- 
ent <>f  siic.-e-  in  certain  circumstances  of  life.  After  leaving  his  compan- 
ions lie  walked  quietly  down  to  the  writ-  .'id  when  he  reached  the 
sjM»t  .where  he  intended  to  cross  the  river  his  plan  was  all  arranged  in  his 
head. 

The  chief,  in<tea  1  t.f  \, -i— in,'  to  that  side  of  the  river  by  which  the  enemy 
would  eon,  1  l>y  the  conflagration,  crossed  to  the  other.  So  soon 

as  h*-  :'•  bank  lie  allowed  his  horse  a    few  moments  for   breathing  ; 

then  leipiiiu'  at  a  bound  on  to  the  panther  skin  that  served  as  his  saddle,  ho 
Lrallop"d  at  full  speed  in  the  direction  of  the  enemy's  camp.  This  furious  race 
lasted  two  hours.  NLrht  had  long  succeeded  the  day  ;  the  pale  glean: 

ved  as  a  beacon  to  the  chief  and  showed  him  in  the 
darkne-s  the  road  he  should  follow.  At  the  end  of  these  two  hours  the 
chief  found  himself  just  opposite  the  most  advanced  point  of  the  island, 
where  the  Apaches  were  at  this  moment  engaged  in  collecting  the  drift- 
wo  id  thev  meant  to  u<e  in  the  surprise  of  the  colony.  Eagle-head  stopped. 
On  his  ri.jht,  far  behind  him,  the  conflagration  raged  in  the  horizon;  arounfl 
him  all  was  silence  and  obscurity.  For  a  long  time  the  Indian  attentively 
watched  the  island  :  a  secret  presentiment  warned  him  that  there  was  the 
dan-er  for  him. 

,.  jiftur  careful  reflection,  the   chief  resolved  to  advance  a  few  paces 
further,  and  recn.^  the  river  at  the  point  opposite  this  island,  which  seemed 
to  him  m-ire  >u^pici'tus  bi-i-.-m-"  it  was  so   tranquil.     However,  before   carry- 
-•iddcn  inspiration  flashed  across  his  mind.     He  dismount- 
I   h.-r-e  in  a  thicket,  laid   aside   his   rille  and   buffalo   robe;   then, 
after  Attempting  tO  pierce  the    surrounding  gloom,  he    stretched    himself  on 
the  -r.'und,  and  crawled  to  the  river's  bank.     He  gently  entered  tin?  water, 
and  >\vimming  and  diving  in  turn,  proceeded  to  the  island,  which   he   pres- 
ently 

I'.ut  at  the  in-tant  lie  landed,  and  was  about  to  rise,  an  almost  impercepi- 

••uid  smote  his  ear  ;  he  fancied  he  could  notice  an  extraordinary  commo- 

i  tin- water  all  around    him.     Eagle-head  plunged   again,  and  retired 

from  the  bank  on  which  he  had   been  on    the  point  of  landing.     Suddenly, 

at  the  moMient  he  rose  to  the  surface  to  take  in  a  fresh  supply  of  air,  he  saw 

two bararag ey 66 flaohfrg before  him;  he  received  a  violent  blow  on  the 

che-t.  an  i  ^-rful  hand  clutch  his  throat  as    in  a    vice.     Kaule-licad 

saw  that,  unless  he  made  a  desperate  effort,  he   would  be   lost,   and  he  at- 

ptedit     Sei/.ing  in  his  turn  his    unknown    foe    who   held   him    by   the 

throat,  he  clung  round  him  with  the  vizor  of  despair. 

Then  a  horrible  and  silent  *truggl«    commenced    in  the    river — a   sinister 
in  which  he  sought  to  kill  -ary,  without   thinking  to  repel 

his  atta-'k-.     The  water,  troubled  by  the  efforts  of  the  two  combatants, bub- 
ble 1  as  it  alligators  were  engaged.     At  length  a  bloody  and  disfigured  body 
rose  inertly  to  the  surface,  and  floated.     A  few  seconds  later,  and  a  head  ap- 
!  ab..ve  the  water,  ca-tin;:  startling  glances  around. 

At  the  sight  of  his  enemy's  corpse  the  victor  indulged  in  a  diabolical 
smile;  he  >ei/ed  him  by  his  "war-lock,  and  swimming  with  one  hand,  dragged 
the  body,  not  to  the  island,  but  to  the  main  land. 

rle-head  had  conquered  the  Apache  who  attacked  him  in  so   unf.r 
a  manner.     The  chief  reached  the  bank,  but  did  not  leave  the  corpse,  which 
he  dragged  along  till  it  was  completely  out  of  the  water;  then  he  lifted  the 
scalp,  placed  the  hideous  trophy  in  Ins  belt,  and  re-mounted  his  horse. 

The  Indian  had  divined  the  Apaches'  tactics  ;  the  attack  of  which  he  had 
been  so  nearly  the  victim  revealed  to  him  the  stratagem  they  designed.  It 


100  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

was  unnecessary  for  him  to  push  his  investigations  on  the  island  further. 
Still,  had  he  abandoned  to  the  current  his  enemy's  corpse,  it  would  have  in- 
fallibly floated  down  among  his  brothers,  and  revealed  the  presence  of  a  spy  ; 
so  he  had  been  careful  to  convey  it  to  the  bank,  where  no  one,  save  by  some 
extraordinary  accident,  could  discover  it  before  sunrise. 

The  few  minutes'  rest  he  had  granted  his  horse  would  have  been  sumcent 
to  restore  all  its  vigor.  The  chief  might  have  returned  to  his  friends,  for 
what  he  had  discovered  ivas  of  immense  importance  to  them;  but  Bellm- 
meur  had  specially  recommended  him  to  discover  the  strength  and  nature 
of  the  war  detachment  which  was  marching  on  the  colony.  Eagle-head  was 
anxious  to  accomplish  his  mission  ;  and  besides,  the  struggle  he  has  under- 
gone, and  from  which  he  had  emerged  as  victor  by  a  miracle,  had  produced 
a  certain  amount  of  excitement,  urging  him  to  carry  out  the  adventure  to 
the  end. 

He  plucked  a  few  leaves  to  stop  the  blood  from  a  slight  wound  he  had  re- 
ceived in  his  left  arm,  fastened  them  on  with  a  piece  of  bark,  and  rode  his 
horse  once  more  into  the  river.  But,  as  he  had  nothing  to  examine,  and 
-did  not  wish  to  be  discovered,  he  took  care  to  pass  at  a  considerable  distance 
from  the  island.  On  the  other  bank,  owing  to  the  care  taken  by  the  In- 
dians to  burn  everything,  the  trail  was  wide  and  perfectly  visible.  In  spite 
of  the  darkness  the  chief  found  no  diffiiculty  in  following  it. 

The  fire  kindled  by  the  Indians  had  not  caused  such  ravages  as  might  be 
supposed.  All  that  part  of  the  prairie,  with  the  exception  of  a  few  scatter- 
ed clumps  of  poplars  at  great  distances  apart,  was  covered  with  long  grass, 
already  half  burned  up  by  the  torrid  beams  of  a  summer  sun.  This  grass 
had  burned  rapidly,  producing  what  the  incendiaries  desired — a  large  quan- 
tity of  smoke,  but  scarcely  heating  the  ground,  which  had  allowed  the  red- 
skins to  march  rapidly  on  the  colony. 

Owing  to  his  headlong  speed,  and  the  few  hours  those  who  preceded  him 
had  been  compelled  to  lose,  the  chief  arrived  almost  simultaneously  with 
them  before  the  hacienda;  that  is  to  say,  he  came  up  with  them  at  the  mo- 
ment when,  after  making  a  futile  assault  on  the  isthmus  battery  they  fled 
pursued  by  a  shower  of  grape,  which  decimated  their  ranks  ;  for,  having 
burnt  everything,  they  had  no  trees  to  shelter  them.  Still  the  majority 
managed  to  escape,  owing  to  the  speed'  of  their  horses. " 

Eagle-head  found  himself  unexpectedly  in  the  very  midst  of  the  fugitives. 
At  first  each  man  was  too  anxious  about  his  own  safety  to  have  time  to  no- 
tice him,  and  the  chief  profited  by  it  to  turn  aside  and  step  behind  a 
rock.  But  then  a  strange  thing  happened.  The  chief  had  scarce  escaped 
from  the  fugitives,  and  examined  them  for  a  moment,  ere  a  strange  smile 
played  on  his  lips;  he  spurred  his  horse,  and  bounded  into  the  very  midst  of 
the  Indians,  uttering  twice  a  shrill,  peculiar  cry.  At  this  cry  the  Indians 
stopped  in  their  flight,  and  rushing  from  all  sides  toward  the  man  who 
uttered  it,  they  ranged  themselves  tumultuously  round  the  chief  with  an 
expression  of  superstitious  fear,  and  passive  and  respectful  obedience. 

Eagle-head  looked  haughtily  on  the  crowd  that  surrounded  him,  for  he  was 
taller  by  a  head  than  any  man  present. 

"  Wall !"  he  at  length  said  in  a  guttural  voice,  with  an  accent  of  bitter  re- 
proach. "  Have  the  Comanches  become  timid  antelopes  that  they  fly  like 
Apache  dogs  before  the  bullets  of  the  pale-faces  ?" 

"  Eagle-head  !  Eagle-head  ?"  shouted  the  warriors  with  joy  mingled  with 
shame,  looking  down  before  the  chiefs  flashing  glance. 

"  Why  have  my  sons  left  the  hunting-grounds  of  the  Del  Norte  without  a 
sachem's  order  ?  Are  they  now  the  rastreros  (bloodhounds)  of  the  Apa- 
ches ?" 

A  suppressed  murmur  ran  through  the  ranks  at  this  cruel  reproach. 


THE    TIGK  II  -SI.  \  V  ER.  101 

"  A  sachem  has  sp<  '  -n-ply.     "  Is  there  no  one 

to   answer    him  .?     Have   the  (.'omanHies  of  the  Lakes  no  chiefs  left  to  com- 
mand them  '?" 

A  warrior  then   broke  through    tin-    ranks  of  the-  Comam-hes.  approached 
Eagle-head,  and  bowed  his  head  respectfully  down  to  his  horse's  neck. 
"Tli'  1  in  :i  gentle  and  harmonious  voice. 

Eagle-hea  IB  unwrinkled — his  features    instantaneously  lost  their 

-ion  of  fury.  Ih-  turned  on  the  warrior  who  had  addressed  him  a 
glance  full  of  tenderness,  and.  offering  him  his  right  hand,  palm  upwards,  he 
said  : — 

"  Och  !  n  r   seeing   my  son,  the  Jester.     The  warriors 

will  camp  here  while  the  two  sachems  hold  a  council."  *\ 

And  making  an  imperious  sign  to  the  chief,  he  withdrew  with  him,  follow- 
ed liy  the  eyes  of  the  redskins,  who  hastened  to  obey  the  order  he  ha 
peremptorily  given.     I  1  and  the  Jester  had  gone  so  far  that  their 

conversation  could  not  be  overheard. 

"Let  us  hold  a  council,"  the  chief  said,  as  he  sat  down  on  a  stone,  and  mo- 
tioned the  Jester  to  take  a  place  l»y  his  side.  The  latter  obeyed  without  re- 
ply. There  was  a  Ion,'  silence,  during  which  the  two  Indians  examined  each 
other  attentively,  in  spite  of  the  indifference  they  affected.  At  length  Ea- 

id  -poke  in  a  slow  and  accentuated  voice. 

••  K  i  :\<  '-head    is   a    warrior  renowned  in  his  nation,"  he  said;  "  he    is  the 
•manches  of  the  Lakes  ;,his  totem  shelters  beneath  its 
\  and  protecting  shadow  the  innumerable  sons  of   the  great  sacn-d  tor- 
Tim- An  ton),  whose  glittering  shell  has  supported  the  world  since 
:  ill  hurled  into  space  the  first  man  and  tin-  lir<t  woman  after  their 
fault.     The  words  which  come  from   the   breast  of  Eagle-head  are  those  of  a 
<agamore  ;  his  tongue  i-  n..t  f..rU«-d-  -§    f:i!-e!i,,.,d  never  sullied  his  lips.     Ea- 
gle-h  -ad  acted  as  a  father  to  the  Jester  ;  he  taught  him  how  to  tame  a  1: 
pierce  with  hi>  arrows  the  rapid  anti-lope,  or  to  stifle  in  his  arms  the  mightv 
:!e-head  love-  tin-  Jester,  who  is  the  son  of  his  third   wile's  M- 

.ra^e  a  place  at  the  council-fire  to  the  Jester  :  he  made  a  chief  ofx 
him  ;  and  when  he  went  awaj  from  the  villages  of  his  nation  he  said  to  Jiim. 
•  M  .  -  :i  A'ill  command  my  warriors  :  he  will  lead  them  to  hunt,  to  ti>h  and 
to  war.'  .0  ?  Does  Eagle-head  speak  faNely  ?" 

father's  true,"  the  chief  answered  with  a  bow  :  "wisdom 

speaks  through  his  lips." 

"  Why,  then,  has  my  son  allied  himself  with  the  enemies  of  his  nation  to 
fight  his  father' <  friends,  tin-  sachem's  ?" 
••hief  let  hi-  head  fall  in  confusion. 
-  \Vhy.  without  consulting  the  man  who  has  ever  aided  and  supported  him 

:a-  he  undertaken  an  uv.just  war  ?" 

unju<t  war  ?"<the  chief  remarked  with  a  certain  degree  of  animation. 
I  it  u  carried  on  in  concert  with  the  enemies  of  our  nation." 

"  T!: 

•  owardly  and  thievish  dogs,  whose  deceitful  tongues  I 
will  pluck 

"  But  th  the  enemies  of  the  Indians." 

"  Tho<e  wh«»m  my  son  attacked  last  night  are  not  Yoris  ;  They  are  Eagle- 
head's  friends." 

"  My  father  will  pardon  the  warrior  :  he  did  not  know  it." 

"If  the  Jester  real  rant  of  jr.  is  he  ready  to  repair  the  fault  he 

has  committed  ?" 

"  The  Jester  has  three  hundred  warrior-;  beneath  his  totem.  Eagle-head 
has  come  :  they  aiv 

"Good!     I  see  that  the  Jester  is  still    my  w«-ll  bel,.v«-d  son.     With  what 


102  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

chief  has  he  made  alliance  ?  It  cannot  be  with  the  Black  Bear,  the  unyield- 
ing enemy  of  the  Comanches,  the  man  who  but  four  moons  past  burned  two 
villages  of  my  nation  ?" 

"  A  cloud  had  passed  over  the  Jester's  mind  :  his  hatred  for  the  white  men 
blinded  him  ;  wisdom  deserted  him  j  he  has  allied  himself  with  the  Black 
Bear." 

"  Wah  !  Eagle-head  did  right  to  return  toward  the  villages  of  his  fathers. 
Will  my  son  obey  the  sachem  ?"  ^ 

"  Whatever  he  orders  I  will  do." 

"  Good  !  let  my  son  follow  me." 

The  two  chiefs  rose.  Eagle-head  proceeded  towards  the  isthmus,  waving 
his  buffalo  robe  in  his  right  hand  as  a  sign  of  peace.  The  Jester  followed  a 
fe\v  paces  behind.  The  Comanches  beheld  with  amazement  their  sachems 
asking  an  interview  with  the  Yoris  ;  but  accustomed  to  obey  their  leaders 
without  discussing  the  orders  they  were  pleased  to  give,  they  evinced  no  an- 
ger at  this  step,  whose  object,  however,  they  did  not  understand.  The  sen- 
tries posted  behind  the  battery  on  the  isthmus  easily  distinguished  in  the 
moon's  rays  the  pacific  movements  of  the  Indians,  and  allowed  them  to  come 
far  as  the  trench. 

"  A  sachem  wishes  an  interview  with  the  chief  of  the  pale-faces,"  Eagle- 
head  then  said. 

"  Very  well,"  replied  a  voice  in  Spanish  from  the  inside.  "  Wait  a  momeut 
— I  will  send  for  him." 

The  two  Comanche  warriors  bowed,  crossed  their  hands  on  their  breast, 
and  waited. 

Don  Louis  and  Belhumeur  had  had  a  long  conversation  with  Don  Sylva 
and  the  count,  in  which  they  revealed  to  them  in  what  way  they  had  learnt 
that  the  Indians  meant  to  attack  them  ;  the  name  of  the  man  who  had  in- 
formed them  so  correctly  ;  and  his  singular  conduct,  in  that,  after  having  in 
a  measure  compelled  them  to  mix  themselves  up  in  a  dangerous  affair  which 
did  not  as  all  concern  them,  he  had  suddenly  abandoned  them  without  any 
valid  reason,  under  the  futile  pretext  of  returning  to  Guaymas,  where  he 
said  that  important  business  claimed  his  presence  with  the  least  possible  de- 
lay. 

This  news  had  a  lively  effect  on  the  two  hearers :  Don  Sylva  especially, 
could  not  repress  a  movement  of  anger  on  hearing  that  the  man  was  no  other 
than  Don  Martial. 

He  guessed  at  once  the  Tigrero's  object — that  he  hoped  to  carry  off  Donna 
Anita  during  the  confusion.  Still  Don  Sj^lva  would  not  impart  his  suspicions 
to  his  future  son-in-law,  intending  to  tell  him,  were  it  absolutely  necessary, 
at  the  last  moment,  but  resolved  to  watch  his  daughter  closely,  for  this  sud- 
den departure  of  Don  Martial  seemed  to  him  to  conceal  a  snare. 

Belhumeur  then  explained  to  the  count  the  position  in  which  he  had  placed 
thecapataz  and  his  peons,  and  the  mission  Eagle-head  had  undertaken,  the 
result  of  which  he  -would  probably  soon  come  to  the  hacienda  to  tell.  The 
count  warmly  thanked  the  two  men  who,  without  knowing  him,  rendered 
him  such  eminent  services  ;  he  offered  them  all  the  refreshments  they  might 
need^  and  then  went  to  give  his  lieutenant  orders  to  warn  him  so  soon  as  an 
Indian  presented  himself  for  a  parley. 

On  his  side,  Don  Sylva  retired  with  the  ostensible  object  of  reassuring  his 
daughter,  but  in  reality  to  inspect  the  sentries  stationed  at  the  rear  of  the 
hacienda.  When  the  Comanches  attacked  the  isthmus,  the  French,  put  on 
their  guard,  received  them  so  warmly  that  in  the  very  first  attack  the  Indians 
recognised  the  futility  of  their  attempt,  and  retired  in  disorder. 

Monsieur  de  Lhorailies  was  talking  with  the  two  visitors  about  the  inci- 
dents of  the  fight,  and  was  astonished  at  the  prolonged  absence  of  Don 


THE     TIGER-SLAYER  103 

Sylva,  who  had  disappeared  during  the  last  hour  without  leaving  a  trace, 
when  Lieutenant  Leruux  entered  the  room  where  the  three  ineii  were  con- 
versing. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  the  count  asked  him. 

"Captain,"  he  answered,  "  two  Indians  are  waiting  at  the  trench  for  per- 
mission to  enter." 

"  Two  T'  Belhuraeur  asked. 

"V 

"  That  is  strange,"  the  Canadian  continued. 

••  What  shall  we  do  ?"  the  count  said. 
and  have  a  look  at  them." 

They  proceeded  to  the  battery 

••  Well  ?"  the  count  said. 

•  Well,  sir,  one  of  these  men  is  certainly  Eagle-head  ;  but  I  do  not  know 
the  other." 

"  And  your  advice  is " 

"  To  let  them  come  in.  As  this  Indian,  who  is  apparently  a  chief,  comes 
in  the  company  of  Eagle-head,  he  cam  only  be  a  friend." 

"  Be  it  so,  then." 

The  count  gave  a  signal ;  the  drawbridge  was  lowered,  and  the  two  chiefs 
entered.  The  Indian  sachems  saluted  all  present  with  that  native  dignity 
that  distinguishes  them,  and  then  Eagle-head,  on  .  Belhumeur's  invitation, 
gave  an  account  of  his  mission.  The  Frenchmen  listened  to  him  with  an  at- 
tention mingled  with  admiration,  not  only  for  the  skill  he  had  displayed,  but 
also  the  courage  of  which  he  had  given  proof. 

••  And  now,"  the  chief  continued  on  ending  his  report,  "the  Jester  has  un- 
derstood the  error  into  which  a  hatred  threw  him  ;  he  breaks  the  alliance  he 
formed  with  the  Apaches,  and  is  resolved  to  obey  in  all  respects  his  father 
Bagie-head,  in  order  to  repent  his  fault.  Eagle-head  is  a  sachem — his  word 
oito.  llr  places  three  hundred  Comanche  warriors  at  the  disposition 
of  his  brothers  the  pale-faces." 

The  count  looked  hesitatingly  at  the  Canadian  :  knowing  the  trickery  of 
the  Indians,  he  felt  a  repugnance  to  trust  them.  Belhumeur  shrugged  his 
shoulders  imperceptibly. 

"The  great  pale  chief  thanks  my  brother  Eagle-head  :  he  accepts  his  offer 
with  joy.  His  hand  will  ever  be  open,  and  his  heart  pure,  for  tin-  Comanches. 
The  war  detachment  of  my  brother  will  be  divided  into  two  parts  :  ,,nc.  un- 
der the  command  of  the  Jester,  will  be  concealed  on  the  other  side  of  the 
river,  to  cut  off  the  retreat  of  the  Apaches  ;  the  other  will  enter  the  haci- 
enda with  Kaule-head.  in  order  to  support  the  pale-faces.  The  Yori  warriors 
are  hidden  in  the  isle,  t  wo  bow-shots  from  the  great  lodge  ;  they  will  accom- 
pany the  .1 

"  Good  !'•   Kagle-hcad  replied  ;  "all  shall  be  done  as  my  brother  dc 

The  two  chiefs  took  leave  and  withdrew.  Belhumeur  then  explained  to 
the  count  the  arrangements  he  had  made  with  the  Comanche  sachem. 

"Hang  it!"  De  Lhorailles  said,  "  I  confess  that  I  have  not  the  slightest 
confidence  in  the  Indians.  You  know  that  treachery  is  their  favorite  wea- 
pon." 

"You do  not  know  the  Comanches  ;  and,  above  all,  you  do  not  know  Ea- 
gle-head. I  take  on  myself  all  the  responsibility." 

"  Act,  then,  as  you  please,  lam  too  much  indebted  to  you  to  thwart 
your  projects,  especially  when  3-011  are  acting  for  my  good." 

Belhumeur  went  himself  to  advise  the  capataz  of  the  change  effected  in 
the  defensive  measures.  The  Jester  and  one  hundred  and  fifty  warriors,  ac- 
companied by  the  forty  peons,  at  once  crossed  the  river,  and  ambsnhed  them- 
selves on  the  opposite *bank  in  a  clump  of  mangroves,  ready  to  appear  at  the 


104  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

first  signal.  The  Frenchmen,  with  Eagle-head  and  a  second  troop  of  Indians, 
were  left  to  defend  the  isthmus,  a  point  where  they  were  almost  certain  of 
not  being  attacked.  All  the  other  colonists  concealed  themselves  in  the 
dense  thickets  that  masked  the  rear  of  the  hacienda,  with  strict  orders  to 
remain  invisible  till  the  word  was  given  to  fire.  Then,  when  all  the  ar- 
rangements were  made,  the  count  and  his  comrades  awaited  with  a  beating 
heart  the  Indians'  attack.  They  had  not  long  to  wait  j  and  we  have  seen  in 
what  fashion  the  Black  Bear  was  received. 

The  Apache  chief  was  brave  as  a  lion  ;  his  warriors  were  picked  men. 
The  collision  was  terrible  ;  the  redskins  did  not  give  way  an  inch.  Inces- 
santly repulsed,  incessantly  they  returned  to  the  charge,  fighting  hand  to 
hand  with  the  French,  who,  in  spite  of  their  bravery,  their  discipline,  and 
superiority  of  weapons,  could  not  rout  them.  The  combat  had  degenerated 
into  a  horrible  carnage,  in  which  the  fighters  clutched  each  other,  stabbing 
and  mangling,  without  loosing  hold.  Belhumeur  saw  that  he  must  attempt 
a  decisive  blow  to  finish  with  these  demons,  who  seemed  invincible  and  in- 
vulnerable. He  stooped  down  to  Louis,  who  was  fighting  by  his  side,  and 
whispered  a  few  words  in  his  ear.  The  Frenchman  disembarrassed  himself 
of  the  foe  with  whom  he  was  fighting,  and  ran  off. 

A  few  minutes  later  the  war-cry  of  the  Comanches  was  heard,  ringing 
and  terrible  ;  and  the  red-skin  warriors  bounded  like  jaguars  on  the  Apaches, 
swinging  their  elubs  and  long  lances.  At  first  the  Black  Bear  fancied  as- 
sistance had  arrived  for  him,  and  that  the  colony  was  in  the  power  of  the 
allies  •  but  this  hope  did  not  endure  a  second.  Then  demoralisation  seized 
on  the  Apaches  ;  they -hesitated,  and  suddenly  turned  their  backs,  rushing 
into  the  river,  and  leaving  on  the  battle-field  more  than  two-thirds  of  their 
comrades. 

The  colonists  contented  themselves  with  firing  a  few  rounds  of  canister 
at  the  fugitives,  feeling  certain  they  would  not  escape  the  ambuscade  pre- 
pared for  them. 

In  fact,  the  musket  shots  of  the  peons  could  soon  be  heard  mingled  with 
the  war  cry  of  the  Comanches.  In  this  unfortunate  expedition  the  Black 
Bear  lost  in  an  hour  the  most  renowned  warriors  of  his  nation.  The  chief, 
covered  with  wounds,  and  only  accompanied  by  a  dozen  men.  escaped  with 
great  difficulty  from  the  carnage.  The  victory  of  the  French  was  complete. 
For  a  long  time  the  colony,  through  this  glorious  achievement,  was  pro- 
tected from  the  attacks  of  the  red-skins. 

When  the  combat  was  ended,  people  sought  in  vain  in  every  direction  for 
Don  Syiva  and  his  daughter :  both  had  disappeared,  and  no  one  krew  how. 
This  mysterious  and  inexplicable  event  struck  the  inhabitants  of  the  colony 
with  consternation,  and  changed  the  joy  of  the  triumph  into  mourning,  for 
the  same  idea  suddenly  occurred  to  all : — 

"  Don  Sylva  and  his  daughter  have  been  carried  off  by  the  Black  Bear !" 

When  the  count,  after  repeated  researches,  was  compelled  to  allow  that 
the  haciendero  and  his  daughter  had  really  disappeared  without  leaving  the 
slightest  trace,  he  gave  way  to  all  the  violence  of  his  character,  vowed  a  ter- 
rible hatred  against  the  Apaches,  and  swore  to  pursue  them,  without  truce 
or  mercy,  until  he  found  her  whom  he  considered  his  wife,  and  whose  loss 
destroved  at  one  blow  the  brilliant  future  he  had  dreamed  of. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  105 

CHAPTER     X    V    I 

THE    CA8A    GRANDE    OF    MOCTECUZOMA. 

AT  the  remote  period  when  the  A/tec>.  guided  by  the  finger  of  God, 
m.'irche'l  forth,  without  knowing  it,  to  conquer  tlie  plateau  of  Ahanuac,  of 
which  they  eventually  made  I  ; ful  kingdom  of  Mexim,  although 

their  •••  >n-tantly  turneil  toward    this    unknown   land,  the   perma- 

nent object  of  their  greed,  they  frequently  stopped  their  migration,  as  if 
fatigue  had  suddenly  overpowered  them,  and  the  hope  of  ever  arriving  had 
failed  them. 

In  sueh  case,  instead  of  simply  ramping  on  the  spot  where  this  hesita- 
tion had  atfected  them,  they  installed  themselves  as  if  they  never  intended 
to  go  further,  and  built  towns.  Alter  so  many  centuries  have  passed  away, 
when  their  founders  have  eternally  disappeared  from  the  sruface  of  the 
globe,  the  imposing  ruins  of  these  cities  scattered  over  a  space  of  more  than 
a  thousand  leagues,  still  excite  the  admiration  of  travellers  bold  enough  to 
confront  count  le-s  daii'_r< T>  in  order  to  contemplate  them. 

The.  iin»-t  singular  of  these  ruins  is  indubitably  that  known  by  the  name 
of  the  Casa  Grande  of  Moctecu/.oma.  which  rise.s  about  two  miles  from  the 
muddy  banks  of  the  Rio  (Jila,  in  an  uncultivated  and  uninhabited  plain,  on 
-kirt  of  the  terrible  sand  desert  known  as  the  Del  Norte.  The  site  on 
which  this  house  is  built  is  flat  on  all  sides.  The  ruins  which  once  formed 
a  city  extend  for  more  three  miles  in  a  southern  direction:  and  also 
in  the  other  directions  all  the  ground  is  covered  with  potsherds  of 
every  description.  Many  of  these  fragments  are  painted  of  various  colors — 
white  or  blue,  red  or  yellow — which,  by  the  by,  is  an  evident  sign  not  only 
that  this  was  an  important  city,  but  also  that  it  was  inhabited  by  Indians 
differing  from  those  now  prowling  about  this  country,  as  the  latter  are  com- 
pletely ignorant  of  the  art  of  making  this  pottery. 

The  house  is  a  perfect  square,  turned  to  the  four  cardinal  points.  All 
around  are  walls,  indicating  an  enceinte  inclosing  not  only  a  house,  but  other 
buildings  traces  of  which  are  perfectly  distinct;  fora  little  to  the  rear  is  a 
building  having  a  floor  above,  and  divided  into  several  parts.  The  ediiice  is 
built  of  earth,  and.  as  far  as  can  be  seen,  with  mud  walls;  it  had  the  stories 
abore  the  ground,  but  the  internal  carpentry  has  long  ago  disappeared. 
The  rooms,  five  in  number  on  each  floor,  WCTO  only  lighted,  SO  far  as  we 
can  judge  from  the  remains,  by  the  doors,  and  round  holes  made  in  the  walls 
faring  to  the  north  and  south."  Through  these  openings  the  man  Amer  (el 
hombre  Amargo,  as  the  Indians  call  the  Aztec  sovereign)  looked  at  the 
on  its  rising  and  setting,  to  salute  it. 

A  canal,  now  nearly  dry,  ran  from  the  river  and  served  to  supply  the  city 
with  water. 

At  t  day  these  ruins  are  gloomy  and  desolate :  they  are 

crumbling  away  beneath  the  incessant  efforts  of  the  sun,  whose  burning  rays 
calcine- tl'em.  and  they  serve  as  a  refuge  to  the  hideous  vultures  and  the 
urubus  which  !  their  domicile.  The  Indians  carefully 

avoid  these  sinister  stations,  from  which  a  superstitious  terror,  for  which  they 
cannot  account,  keeps  them  aloof. 

Thus  the  Comanche,  Sioux,  Apache,  or  Pawnee  warrior,  whom  the  acci- 
dents of  the  chase,  or  any  other  fortuitous  cause,  had  brought  to  the  vicin- 
ity of  this  dangerous  ruin  on  the  night  of  the  fourth  or  fifth  day  of  the 
cherry  moon — ckawtjMteiatoni — that  i.s  to  say,  about  a  month  after  the 
events  we  described  in  the  last  chapter — would  have  fled  at  the  top  speed  of 
his  horse,  a  prey  to  the  wildest  terror,  at  the  strange  spectacle  which  would 
have  presented  itself  to  his  awe-stricken  gaze. 


106  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

The  old  palace  of  the  Aztec  kings  threw  out  its  gigantic  outline  on  the 
azure  sky,  studded  with  a  brilliant  belt  of  stars.  From  all  the  openings — 
round  or  square — formed  by  human  agency  or  by  time  in  its  dilapidated  walls 
poured  floods  of  reddish  light ;  while  songs,  shouts,  and  laughter  incessantly 
rose  from  the  ruined  apartments,  and  troubled  in  their  dens  the  wild  beasts, 
surprised  by  these  sounds,  which  disturbed  in  so  unusual  a  manner  the  silence 
of  the  desert.  In  the  ruins,  beneath  the  pallid  rays  of  the  moon,  might  be 
distinguished  the  shadows  of  men  and  horses  grouped  round  enormous  bras- 
eros,  while  a  dozen  horsemen,  well-armed,  and  leaning  on  spears,  stood  mo- 
tionless as  bronze  equestrian  statues  at  the  entrance  of  the  house. 

If  within  the  ruins  all  was  noise  and  light,  outside  all  was  shadow  and 
silence. 

The  night  slipped  away  :  the  moon  had  already  traversed  two  thirds  of 
her  course ;  the  badly  tended  braseros  went  out  one  after  another ;  the  old 
mansion  alone  continued  to  gleam  through  the  darkness  like  an  ill-omened 
light  house. 

At  this  moment  the  sharp  and  regular  sound  of  a  horse  trotting  on  the 
sand  re-echoed  in  the  distance.  The  sentinels  stationed  at  the  entrance  of 
the  house  with  difficulty  raised  their  heads,  oppressed  by  sleep  and  the  vivid 
cold  of  the  first  morning  hours,  and  looked  in  the  direction  -whence  the 
noise  of  footsteps  was  audible. 

A  horseman  appeared  at  the  corner  of  the  road  leading  to  the  ruins. 
The  stranger,  paying  but  little  heed  to  what  he  saw,  continued  to  advance 
boldly  toward  the  house.  He  passed  the  ruined  wall,  and  on  arriving  with- 
in ten  paces  of  the  sentries,  who  awaited  him  silent  and  motionless.  But 
when  he  was  about  two  swords'  lengths  from  the  party  all  the  lances  were 
suddenly  levelled  at  his  breast,  a  hoarse  voice  shouted,  "  Halt !" 

The  stranger  stopped  without  a  remark. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  what  do  you  want  ?"  asked  a  horseman. 

"  I  am  a  costeno.  - 1  have  taken  a  long  journey  to  see  your  captain,  with 
whom  I  wish  to  speak,"  the  stranger  said. 

By  the  pale  and  flickering  beams  of  the  moon  the  sentry  tried  in  vain  to 
distinguish  the  stranger's  features  ;  but  that  was  impossible,  so  carefully  was 
he  wrapped  up  in  his  cloak. 

"  What  is  your  name  ?"  he  asked,  in  an  ill-tempered  tone,  when  he  saw 
that  all  his  efforts  were  useless. 

"  What  need  of  that  ?  Your  captain  does  not  know  me,  and  my  name 
will  tell  him  nothing." 

"  Possibly  so,  but  that  concerns  yourself.  Keep  your  incognito  if  you 
think  proper  ;  still,  you  must  not  be  angry  with  me  if  I  do  not  let  you  dis- 
turb the  captain.  He  is  at  this  moment  supping  with  his  officers,  and  certain- 
ly would  not  put  himself  out  in  the  middle  of  the  night  to  speak  with  a 
stranger." 

The  man  could  not  conceal  a  sharp  movement  of  annoyance. 

"  Possibly  so,  I  will  say  in  my  turn,"  he  remarked  an  instant  later.  "  Lis- 
ten. You  are  an  old  soldier,  I  think  ?" 

"  I  am  one  still,"  the  trooper  said,  drawing  himself  up  proudly. 

"  Although  you  speak  Spanish  magnificently,  I.  believe  I  can  recognise  the 
Frenchman  in  you." 
"  I  have  that  honor." 

The  stranger  chuckled  inwardly.  He  had  caught  his  man  :  he  had  found 
ont  his  weak  point. 

"  I  am  alone,"  he  went  on.  "  You  have  I  know  not  how  many  comrades. 
Allow  me  to  speak  with'  your  captain.  What  do  you  fear  ?" 

"  Nothing  ;  but  my  orders  are  strict — I  dare  not  break  through  them." 
"  We  are  in  the  heart  of  the  wilderness,  more  than   a  hundred  leagues 


THE    TIGLR-SLAYEK.  107 

from  every  civ,  .     "You  can  under- 

staid  that  very  powerful  reMOM  WGJK  r.  .pii-ite  (.•   make  IMC  brave  the  nuiu- 


berle-s  dangen  <>f  the  l<>n^  journ<-y  I  have  madi-  to  xju-ak  lor  a  few  moments 
with  tiie  Count  <le  Uiorailles.  Would  you  shipwreck  me  in  si-lit  of  port, 
when  it  only  requires  a  little  kindness  on  your  part  for  me  to  obtain  what  I 
want  ?" 

The  trooper  hesitated  ;  the  reasons  urged  by  the  stranger  had  half  convin- 
ced him.  Still,  after  a  few  minutes'  rellection,  he  said  with  a  toss  of  his 
head  :  — 

••  No,  it  is  impossible  ;  the  captain  is  stern,  and  I  do  not  care  to  lose  my 
corporal's  stripes.  All  I  can  do  for  you  is  to  allow  you  to  bivouac  here  with 
our  men  in  the  open  air.  To-morrow  it  will  be  day  j  the  captain  will  come 
out  ;  you  will  speak  to  him,  and  arrange  matters  as  you  please,  for  it  will 
not  affect  me." 

-  Hem  !''  the  stranger  said  thoughtfully,  "  it  is  a  long  time  to  wait." 

"  Bah  !"  said  the  soldier  -rally,  "  a  night  is  soon  passed.  Besides,  it  is  your 
own  fault  ;  you  are  so  confoundedly  mysterious.  A  man  needn't  be  ashamed 
of  his  name." 

"  But  I  repeat  that  your  cap||in  never  heard  mine." 
What  matter  if  he  hasn't  ?    A  name  is  always  a  name.'1 

"  Ah  !"  the  stranger  suddenly  said,  "  I  believe  I  have  found  a  way  to  settle 
everything." 

"  Let's  hear  it  :  if  it  is  good  I  will  avail  myself  of  it." 

"'Tis  excellent," 

"  All  the  better.     I  am  listening." 

"  Go  and  tell  the  captain  that4  the  man  who  fired  a  pistol  at  him  a  month 
back  at  the  Rancho  of  Guaymas  is  here,  and  wishes  to  speak  to  him." 

«  Eh  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  understand  me  ?': 

«  Oh,  perfectly.' 

«  Well,  in  that  case  -  " 

.selves,  the  recommendation  seems  to  me  rather  scurvy." 

-  Y    .  •   ink  *oT 

"  Of  com-    '     II'-  was  all  but  assassinated  by  you.    What,  was  it  you  ?" 

"Yes,  I  and  anot! 

"  I  compliment  you  on  it.'' 

«  Thanks.     Well,  'are  you  not  going  7" 

"  I  confess  to  a  certain  amount  of  hesitation." 

"You  are  wr.ni;;.  The  ('.unit  de  Llmrailles  is  a  brave  man;  no  one  doubts 
his  C"  :  iiiu-t  have  retained  oiirehanre  m<-etin.r  in  plea-ant  mem 

••  After  :il'.  iM.d'-  possible  ;  and.  1.  .  are  a  stranger.     I  cannot  bear 

the  thought  .-f  refii-iu-  you  so  slight  a  service.  I  will  go.  Wait  here,  and 
do  not  be  impatient,  for  I  do  not  promise  you  success." 

"  I  am  certain  of  it." 

The  old  tidier  dismounted  with  a  shrug  of  his  shoulders,  and  entered  the 
house.     The  stranger  did   not  appear  to  doubt  the   success  of  the  corp 
cnibii-  -is  soon  as  he  had  disappeared,  he  walked  up  to  the  door.     In  a 

few  moments  the  corporal  returned. 

-  Well."  inquired  the  stranger,  "  what  answer  did  the  captain  give  you  ?" 
"He  began  laughing  and  ordered  me  to  bring  you  in." 

"  You  see  I  was  right." 

"  That's  true  ;  but,  for  all  that,  an  attempted  assassination  is  a  droll  recom- 
mendation." 

"  A  meeting,"  the  stranger  remarked. 

"  I  don't  know  if  you  call  it  by  that  name  here  ;  but  in  France  we  call  it 
waylaying.  Come  on." 


108  THE    TIGER- SLAYER. 

The  stranger  made  no  reply  :  lie  merely  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  follow- 
ed the  worthy  trooper. 

In  an  immense  hall,  whose  dilapidated  walls  threatened  to  collapse,  and  to 
which  the  star-spangled  sky  served  as  roof,  four  men  of  stern  features  and 
flashing  eyes  were  seated  round  a  table,  served  with  the  most  delicate  luxury 
and  the  most  sensual  idea  of  comfort.  They  were  the  count  and  the  officers 
forming  his  staff,  namely,  Lieutenants  Diego  Leon  and  Martin  Leroux,  and 
Don  Sylva's  old  capataz,  Bias  Vasquez. 

The  count  had  been  encamped  with  his  free  company  for  the  last  five  days 
in  the  Casa  Grande  of  Moctecuzoma.  After  the  attack  on  the  colony  by  the 
Apaches,  the  count,  in  the  hope  of  finding  again  his  betrothed,  who  had  dis- 
appeared in  so  mysterious  a  way  during  the  action,  and  in  all  likelihood  had 
been  carried  off  by  the  Indians,  immediately  formed  the  resolution  of  execu- 
ting the  orders  government  had  given  him  long  previously,  which  he  had  hith- 
erto delayed  obeying,  with  pretexts  more  or  less  plausible  ;  but  in  reality  be 
cause  he  did  not  care,  brave  as  he  was,  to  have  a  fight  with  the  savages,  whc 
were  so  difficult  to  overcome,  especially  when  attacked  on  their  own  territo- 
ry. The  count  drew  one  hundred  and  twenty  Frenchmen  from  the  colony, 
to  whom  the  capataz,  who  burned  to  recoTOr  and  deliver  his  master  and 
young  mistress,  added  thirty  sturdy  peons,  so  that  the  strength  of  the  little 
troop  amounted  to  one  hundred  and  fifty  well-armed  and  experienced  horse- 
men. 

The  count  had  asked  the  hunters,  whose  help  had  also  been  so  precious  to 
him,  to  accompany  him.  He  would  have  been  happy  to  have  not  only  com- 
panions so  intrepid,  but  also  guides  so  sure  as  they  lead  on  the  trail  of  the 
Indians,  whom  he  was  determined  to  follow  up  and  exterminate.  But  Count 
Louis  and  his  two  friends,  without  giving  any  further  excuse  than  the  neces- 
sity of  continuing  their  journey  at  once,  took  leave  of  Lhorailles,  peremptorily 
refusing  the  brilliant  offers  he  made  them. 

The  count  was  compelled  to  put  up  with  the  capataz  and  his  peons.  Un- 
fortunately these  men  were  costenos  or  inhabitants  of  the  seaboard,  perfect- 
ly well  acquainted  with  the  coast,  but  entirely  ignorant  of  all  relating  to  the 
tierra,  a  dentro  or  interior  countries.  It  was  therefore,  under  this  experien- 
ced guidance  that  the  count  left  Guetzalli  and  marched  into  Apacheria. 

The  expedition  began  under  favorable  auspices  :  twice  were  the  red-skins 
surprised  by  the  French  at  an  interval  of  a  few  days,  and  mercilessly  mas- 
sacred. The  count  wished  to  make  no  prisoners,  in  the  hope  of  imprinting 
terror  on  the  hearts  of  these  barbarous  savages.  All  the  Indians  who  fell 
alive  into  the  hands  of  the  French  were  shot,  and  then  hung  on  the  trees, 
head  downwards. 

Still,  after  these  two  encounters,  so  disastrous  for  them,  the  Indians  ap- 
peared to  have  taken  the  hint ;  and,  in  spite  of  all  the  count's  efforts,  he 
found  it  impossible  to  catch  them  again.  The  summary  justice  exercised  by 
the  count  appeared  not  only  to  have  attained,  but  even  outstripped  the  ob- 
ject he  designed ;  for  the  Indians  suddenly  became  invisible.  For  about 
three  weeks  the  count  sought  their  trail,  but  was  unable  to  discover  it. 
At  length,  on  the  eve  of  the  day  on  which  we  take  up  our  story  again, 
some  seven  or  eight  hundred  horses,  apparently  free  (for  according  to  the  In- 
dian custom,  their  riders  lying  on  their  flanks,  were  nearly  invisible),  en- 
tered the  ruins  about  mid-day,  and  rushed  on  the  Casa  Grande  at  a  frightful 
pace. 

A  discharge  cf  musketry  from  behind  the  hastily  erected  barricades  huri- 
ed  disorder  in  their  ranks,  though  it  did  not  check  the  impetus  of  their 
attack,  and  they  fell  like  lightning  on  the  French.  The  Apaches  had 
plucked  up  a  spirit.  Half  naked,  with  their  heads  laden  with  plumes,  their 
long  buffalo  robes  fluttering  in  the  wind,  steering  their  horses  with  theii 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  109 

s,  the  Indian  warriors  had  a  warlike  aspect  capable  of  inspiring  the 
most  resolute  men  with* tenor.  The  French  received  them  boldly,  however, 
alth»  v  the  horrible  yells  i  heir  .  .t teivd,  and  blinded 

bj  the  long  barb  which  rained  around  them  like  hail. 

But  the  Apaches,   as   much  as   the  French,  \\i>':.  -Kirmish. 

Bya    <-»mm.>n  arn.rd    they  rushed   on   ea"h   otlu-r   in  a  hand-to-hand  light. 

the  Indian  warrior.-,  tin-    Uhi'  '.  i!  1    lie    i;u-ily  r 

Dg  plume  and  ti.  thers  planted  in  his  war-tuft.     The 

chief  urged   his  men  on  to  avenge  their  preceding  d<  .  '•/•'mg.    the 

CasaCrande.     Then  one  of  those    fearful  fn.nti.-r   :'.:-iion>  began,  in    which 
no  prisoners  are  made,  and  which  render  any  description  impossible  through 
by  ] mth  parties  display,  and  the  cruelties  of  which  they  aiv  guilty. 
The  .  bayonet,  and  lun<v    were    the    on! , 

light,  during   which  the   Indians    \.  -aiiily   reini-»r.vd.    lasted 

•    hour-,  and  the  del  the  barricades  allowed  them- 

;  lian  yield  an  inch  of  ground. 

•   l-"pe  that    the    Indi-ms  must  l»e  wearied  by  .so  long  a  st rug- 
tin.'  French  redoubled  their  efforts,  wheil 

suddenly    ;  !"   was   he:ird   in    their  rear.     The 

count  and  the   eapataz,  who   fought  in  the  lir.-t  ranks  of  the  volunteers  and 

L     The  po>ition    was  critical.     The  French    were  really 

eo    two  fires.     The   Little   Panther,  at  the  head  of  the  fifty 

warrior-,  had  turned  the  pn>itioii,  and  taken  the  barricades  in  re  \er.-e.     The 

Indian-,  mad  with  joy  at  such  perfect  success,  cut  down  all  they  came  across, 

uttering  the  while  yells  of  triumph. 

The  count  took  a  long  glance  at  the  battle-field,  and  his  determination 
was  at  once  formed.  He  said  a  couple  of  words  to  the  capata/,.  who  return- 
•  the  head  of  his  combatants,  warned  them  what  to  do,  and  watched 
for  the  favorable  moment  to  cany  out  his  chiefs  instructions.  For  his  part 
the  count  had  lost  no  time.  Seizing  a  barrel  of  powder,  he  put  into  it  a 
piece  of  lighted  candle,  and  hurled  it  into  the  densest  ranks  of  the  Indians, 
where  ir  bur-t  almost  immediately,  causing  irreparable  injury.  The  terrilied 
Apaches  fell  into  disorder,  and  lied  in  every  direction  to* avoid  being  struck 
by  the  fragments  of  this  novel  .-hell.  Piofiting  cleverly  by  t  •  pro- 

duced by  the  barrel  among  the  a--ailant>.  the  adventurers  led  by  tl.e  rapataz 
turned  and  rushed  «.n  the   Little  Panther's  band,  which  was  only  a   few  ; 
off  b;  16.     The  spot  was  not  favorable  for  the  Indians,  who.  collected 

in  a  iitry.  could  not    inaiKi-m'e  their  horses.     Thel.iti. 

andi  forward    with    \vijs.     The  French,  as  brave  and  as 

skill!  1  with  levelled  :iock 

of   tl.  •!!  upon   them   with  blinding  speed. 

The    :  n  Lack.     The    rout   commenced,  and  i!:e  Apaches 

nt  sent  s.  r  them, 

that  the    Apaches  after  re-forming, 
had 

The  count,  althou-  victory  he  had  gained  (f 

emy'  -),  did  not  consider   it  deci-ive,  afi  the  L' 

had  i  r  the  person  he  had  ;  worn  to 

sa\v.      i!      ,.v    :<V:si'  7atopre[:.  i  ward  march  in  the 

desert,  and  on  the  next  day  the  i  ;  aid  definitely  leave  the 

Grande. 

The  count  feted  .e  victory  gained  on  tli?  previous  day, 

and  urged  them  to  drink  to  th  <:\  they  were   going 

to  attempt  on   the  morrow,     i  .s  lie   had 

made,  by  the    repeated  toasts  he  had    d;  .1  as  by  the  hope  of  com- 

plete success  ere  long,  the  count  was  in  the  best  possible  temper  to  hear  the 
singular  message  the  old  corporal   d*  much  against  the  grain. 


110  THE   TIGER- SLAYER. 

"  And  what  sort  of  fellow  is  lie  ?"  he  asked,  when  the  other  had  perform- 
ed his  task. 

"  On  my  word,  captain,"  the  corporal  answered,  "  so  far  as  I  could  see, 
he  is  stout,  well  built  young  fellow,  and  gifted  with  a  sufficient  stock  of  as- 
surance, not  to  speak  strongly." 

The  count  reflected  for  a  moment. 

"  Shall  I  have  him  shot  ?"  the  soldier  asked,  taking  this  silence  for  a  con- 
demnation. 

"  Plague  take  it,  what  a  hurry  you  are  in,  Boiland  !"  the  count  said 
laughing  and  looking  up.  "  No,  no;  this  scamp's  arrival  is  a  piece  of  good 
luck  for  us.  On  the  contrary,  bring  him  here  with  the  utmost  politeness." 

The  soldier  bowed  and  retired. 

"  Gentlemen,"  the  count  continued,  "  you  remember  the  trap  to  which  I 
almost  fell  a  victim  :  a  certain  amount  of  mystery,  which  I  have  never  been 
able  to  fathom,  has  since  surrounded  this  affair.  The  man  who  asks  speech 
of  me  has  come,  I  feel  a  presentiment,  in  order  to  give  me  the  key  to  many 
things  which  have  hitherto  been  incomprehensible." 

"  Senor  conde,  "  the  capataz  observed,  "  pray  take  care.  You  do  not  yet 
know  the  character  of  our  people ;  pray  take  care.  You  do  not  yet  know 
the  character  of  our  people  :  this  man  may  come  to  draw  you  into  a  snare." 

"  For  what  purpose  ?" 

"  Quien  sabe  ?"  Bias  Vasquez  answered,  employing  that  phrase  which  in 
Spanish  is  so  meaning,  'and  which  it  is  difficult  to  translate  into  our  tongue. 

"  Bah,  bah  !"  the  count  said  "  Trust  in  me,  Don  Bias,  to  unmask  this 
scamp,  if  he  be  a  spy,  as  I  do  not  suppose." 

The  capataz  contented  himself  with  an  almost  imperceptible  shrug  of  his 
shoulders.  The  count  was  one  of  those  men  whose  lofty  and  arrogant  mind 
rendered  any  discussion  impossible.  The  Europeans,  and,  before  all,  the 
French  in  America,  display  towards  the  natives — white,  half-breed,  or  red- 
skins— a  contempt  which  breaks  out  in  their  language  and  actions,  persuad- 
ed they  stand  intellectually  far  above  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  in 
which  they  happen  to  be,  they  display  towards  them  an  insulting  pity,  and 
amuse  themselves  with  continually  turning  them  into  ridicule,  by  mocking 
either  their  habits  or  their  belief,  and  in  their  hearts  grant  them  an  amount 
of  instinct  not  greatly  superior  to  that  of  the  brute.- 

This  opinion  is  not  only  unjust,  but  it  is  also  entirely  false.  The  Ameri- 
can Hispanos,  it  is  true,  are  very  far  behindhand  as  regards  civilisation,  trade, 
mechanical  arts,  &c:  progress  with  them  is  slow,  because  perpetually  imped- 
ed by  the  superstitions  that  form  the  basis  of  their  faith ;  but  we  ought  not 
to  make  these  people  responsible  for  a  state  of  things  from  which  they  are 
eager  to  emerge,  and  for  which  the  Spaniards  are  alone  culpable,  owing  to 
the  system  of  brutalising  oppression  and  crushing  abjectness  in  which  they 
kept  them.  The  grinding  tyranny  which  for  several  centuries  weighed 
Indians  down,  by  rendering  them  the  utter  slaves  of  haughty  and  implaca- 
ble masters,  has  given  them  the  characteristics  of  slaves — cunning  and  cow- 
ardice. 

With  a  few  honorable  exceptions,  the  mass  of  the  Indian  population  espe- 
ally — for  the  whites  have  advanced  with  giant  steps'  in  the  path  of  progress 
during  the  past  few  years — is  scampish,  cunning,  cowardly,  and  depraved. 
Thus  it  ever  happens  that  when  an  European  and  a  half-breed  come  into  col- 
lision, the  white  man,  instead  of  the  intelligence  he  boasts,  is  duped  by  the 
Indian.  It  is  so  well  recognised  as  an  article  of  faith  in  Spanish  America, 
that  the  half-breeds  and  Indians  are  poor  irrational  creatures,  gifted  at  the 
most  with  enough  intelligence  to  live  from  hand  to  mouth  that  the  whites 
proudly  call  themselves  gente.  de  razors 

We  are  bound  to  add  that,  after  a  few  years'  residence  in  America,  tho 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  Ill 

opinions  of  the  Europeans  with  regard  to  the  half  breeds  are  greatly  modi- 
fied, because  a  little  acquaintance  with  the  country  enables  them  to  take  a 
more  healthy  view  of  the  people  with  whom  they  are  mixed  up.  But  the 
Count  de  Lhorailles  had  not  ivarh  d  that  stage:  he  only  saw  in  the  Indian, 
or  half-breed,  a  being  all  but  lacking  reason,  and  dealt  with  him  on  that  er- 
roneous principle.  This  belief  was  destined,  at  a  later  date,  to  bear  most 
terrible  consequences. 

The  count  had  noticed  the  shrug  of  the  shoulders  the  capataz  gave  was 
about  to  reply  to  him,  when  the  corporal  reappeared,  followed  by  the 
stranger,  on  whom  all  eyes  were  at  once  fixed.  The  stranger  bore  without 
flinching  the  cross  fire  of  glances,  and,  while  remaining  completely  wrapped 
up  in  the  folds  of  his  large  cloak,  saluted  the  company  with  unparalleled 
ease.  The  appearance  of  this  man  in  the  banqueting  hall  infected  the  guests 
with  a  feeling  of  uneasiness  they  would  have  been  unablo  to  explain,  but 
which  suddenly  rendered  them  dumb. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

CUC    HARKS. 

THE  silence  began  to  grow  embarrassing  to  all,  and  the  count  speedily 
noticed  this.  As  a  thorough  gentleman,  accustomed  to  command  immedi- 
ately the  most  exceptional  and  difficult  positions,  he  rose,  walked  toward  the 
stranger  with  outstretched  hand,  and  turning  to  his  officers: — 

"  Gentlemen,"  he  said,  with  a  peculiar  ihflection  of  voice,  and  bowing 
courteously,  "  allow  me  to  present  to  you  this  caballero,  whose  name  I  am 
not  yet  acquainted  with,  but  who,  from  what  he  has  himself  said,  is  one  of 
my  most  intimate  enemies." 

"  Oh,  senor  conde  !"  the  unknown  said,  in  a  stifled  voice. 

"  I  am  delighted  at  it,"  the  count  said  quickly.  "  Pray  do  not  contra- 
dict me,  my  dear  enemy,  but  be  good  enough  to  take  a  seat  by  my  side." 

"  I  never  was  your  enemy  ;  the  proof  is  that  1  have  ridden  two  hundred 
leagues  to  ask  a  service  of  you.'' 

Ci  It  is  granted  ere  mentioned  ;  so  put  off  serious  matters  till  to-morrow . 
Take  a  glasy  of  champagne." 

Th  e  unknown   bowed,  seized  the  glass,  and  said,  bowing  to  the  company : 

"  Gentlemen,  I  drink  to  the  fortunate  issue  of  your  expedition." 

And  lifting  the  glass  to  his  lips,  he  emptied  it  at  a  draught. 

"  You  are  a  famous  companion,  sir.  I  thank  you  for  your  toast;  it  is  of 
good  omen  to  us." 

''Commandant,  pray  be  kind  enough,"  Lieutenant  Martin  said,  "to  tell 
us  as  speedily  as  possible  your  amusing  relations  with  this  caballero." 

"  I  would  do  so  with  pleasure,  senores ;  but  I  should  first  like  to  ask  this 
caballero,  who  states  he  has  ridden  so  far  to  see  me,  to  break  an  incognito 
which  has  lasted  too  long  already,  and  to  inform  us  of  his  name,  so  that  wo 
have  the  honor  of  greeting.'  • 

The  stranger  began  laughing,  and,  allowing  the  fold  of  his  cloak,  which 
had  hitherto  concealed  his  face,  to  fall,  replied: — 

'•  With  the  greatest  pleasure,  caballeros  ;  but  I  fancy  that  my  name,  like 
my  face,  will  teach  you  nothing.  We  only  met  once,  senor  conde,  and  dur- 
ing that  interview  the  night  was  too  dark,  and  the  conversation  between 
yourself  and  my,  comrade  too  animated,  for  my  features  to  have  deeply  im- 
printed on  your  memory,  even  had  you  seen  them." 

"  It  is  true,  senor,"  the  count  replied,  after  attentively  examining  his  fea- 


112  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

tures.     "  I  am  free  to  confess  that  I  do  not  remember  ever  having  seen  you 
before." 

"  I  was  sure  of  it." 

"  Then,"  the  count  exclaimed  hotly,  "  why  do  you  so  obstinately  hide 
your  face  ?" 

"•  Come,  sir  count,  I  probably  had  my  reasons  for  doing  so.  Who  knows 
if  you  may  not  some  day  have  cause  to  regret  making  me  break  an  incognito 
which  I  probably  had  reasons  for  maintaining  ?" 

These  words  were  pronounced  in  a  sarcastic  voice,  mingled  with  a  menace, 
which  each  could  read  in  spite  of  the  stranger's  apparent  coolness. 

"  It  is  of  little  consequence,  senor,"  the  count  said  haughtily.  "  I  am  one 
of  those  men  whose  sword  supports  his  words  j  so  now  have  the  goodness  to 
give  me  your  name  without  further  excuses  or  vascillation." 

"  Which  will  you  have,  caballero — my  nom  de  guerre,  or  any  other  of  my 
aliases  ?" 

"  Any  one  you  please,"  the  count  said  furiously,  "  so  long  as  you  give  us 
one." 

The  stranger  rose,  and,  turning  a  haughty  glance  on  all  present,  said  in  a 
firm  voice: — 

"  I  told  you  on  entering  this  room,  caballero,  that  I  had  ridden  two  hun- 
dred leagues  to  ask  a  service  of  you.  I  deceived  you.  I  expect  nothing  of 
you,  neither  service  nor  favor ;  on  the  contrary,  I  wish  to  be  useful  to  you. 
I  have  come  for  that  purpose,  and  no  other.  What  need  of  your  knowing 
who  I  am,  or  what  my  name  is,  as  I  shall  not  be  your  obligee,  but  you  mine  ?" 

"  The  greater  reason,  caballero,  for  you  to  unmask.  I  will  respect  the 
quality  of  guest  you  claim  here,  and  not  make  you  do  by  force  what  I  ask 
of  you  ;  but  remember  this,  I  am  resolved,  whatever  may  happen,  to  listen 
to  nothing,  and  beg  you  to  withdraw  immediately,  if  you  refuse  any  longer 
to  satisfy  my  wishes." 

"  You  will  repent  of  it,  senor  conde,"  the  stranger  replied,  with  a  sardonic 
smile.  "  One  word  more,  and  a  last  one.  I  consent  to  make  myself  known 
to  you  privately,  the  more  so  as  what  I  have  to  tell  you  must  only  be  heard 
by  yourself." 

"  By  Bacchus !"  Lieutenant  Martin  exclaimed,  "  this  surpasses  all  belief, 
and  such  persistency  is  extraordinary." 

"  I  know  not  if  I  am  mistaken,"  the  capataz  exclaimed  meaningly ;  "  but 
I  am  certain  I  hold  a  great  place  in  the  nrfstery  with  which  this  caballero 
surrounds  himself,  and  that  if  he  fears  anybody  here  it  is  I." 

"  You  are  quite  correct,  Senor  Don  Bias,"  the  stranger  said  with  a  bow. 
"  You  see  that  I  know.  You  know  me  too,  if  not  by  face,  fortunately  for 
me  at  this  moment,  by  name  and  repute.  Well,  rightly  or  wrongly,  I  am 
convinced  that  were  I  to  pronounce  that  name  before  you,  you  would  induce 
your  friend  not  to  listen  to  me." 

"  And  what  would  happen  then  ?"  the  capataz  interrupted  him. 

"  A  great  misfortune  probably,"  the  stranger  said  in  a  firm  voice.  "  You 
see  that  I  act  frankly  with  you,  whatever  your  opinion  may  be.  I  only  ask 
of  the  count  ten  minutes'  conversation  ;  after  that  he  can  do  whatever  he 
.  pleases  with  the  secret  I  intrust  to  him,  and  the  news  I  bring  him." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  The  count  examined  the  stranger's  calm 
face  while  reflecting  profoundly.  At  length  the  unknown  rose,  and,  bowing 
to  the  count,  said, — 

"  Which  am  I  to  do,  senor — stay  or  go  ?" 

_The  count  turned  a  piercing  glance  upon  him,  which  the  other  endured 
without  betraying  the  slightest  emotion. 

"  Stay  !"  he  said. 

"  Good  !"  the  unknown  remarked,  and  seated  himself  again. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  113 

"  Gentlemen,"  continued  the  count,  addr*  --in-  his  guests,  "you  have  heard, 
be  kind  enough  to  eva--  m<-  for  a  f.-w  numi. 

The  officers  rose  and  withdrew  wil  limit  any  ; '-ply.  The  eapatax  was  the 
last  to  go,  after  bending  on  the  unknown  one  of  tho>e  -lances  \vhi<-ii  ransack 
the  depths  of  a  man's  heart.  I>ut  this  glance,  like  the  count's,  produced  no 
effect  on  the  stranger's  cold,  impa.^ivc  ft 

"  Now,  senor,"  said  the  count  to  tin-  stl  a>    they  were  alone, 

(I  am  awaiting  the  fulfilment  of  your  promise/1 

"  I  am  ready  to  sati>lY 

"  What  is  your  name'  '"    \Vho  aiv  yon  ?" 

"Pardon  me,  sir,"  the  stranger  replied  with  easy  raillery,  "  If  we  go  on  in 
this  way  it  will  take  a  long  time,  and  you  will  learn  nothing,  or  very  little." 

The  count  repressed  with  dillicnlty  a  -v.-ture  of  impatience. 

"  Proceed  as  you  think  proper,''  he  said. 

"Good  !  in  that  way  we  shall  soon  nnder-tand  each  other." 

"  I  am  listening." 

"  You  are  strange,  senor,  in  this  country.  Having  arrived  a  few  months 
back  only,  you  do  not  yet  know  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  inhabitants. 
Relying  on  the  knowledge  you  attained  in  your  own  country,  you  fancied,  on 
arriving  among  us,  that  you  could  do  exactly  as  you  pleased,  l>ccau>e  your  in- 
telligence was  so  superior  to  ours,  and  you  have  acted  accordingly." 

"  To  your  story,  senor  !"  interrupted  the  count  passionately. 

"  I  am  coming  to  it,  senor.  Owing  to  powerful  protectors,  you  found  your- 
self at  once  placed  in  an  exceptional  portion.  You  have  founded  a  magnifi- 
cent colony  in  the  richest  province  of  .Mexico,  on  the  frontier.  You  then 
asked  and  obtained  from  government  the  rank  of  captain,  with  the  right  t< 
raise  a  free  corps  composed  exdu>ivcly  of  your  own  countrynren,  specially  in 
tended  to  hunt  the  Apaches,  Comanehes,  £c.  That  is  easy  to  understand 
for  we  Mexicans  are  such  cowards." 

"  Senor,  senor  !  I  would  remind  you  that  all  you  are  now  saying  i^  a 
least  useless,"  the  count  angrily  exclaimed. 

"  Not  so  much  as  you  suppose,"  the  other  said,  still  perfectly  calm  •  •'  o=« 
set  your  mind  at  ease.  I  have  finished,  and  now  reach  the  point  v  aio'  spe-6 
ially  interests  you.  I  only  wished  to  let  you  see  that  if  you  dU  not  know 
me,  I,  on  the  other  hand,  know  more  of  you  than  you  imaginer..'1 

The  count  struck  the  table  with  his  fist  and  stamped  his  (JGC  as  an  outlet 
for  his  passion. 

"  I  will  go  on,"  the  unknown  continued.  "  Certainly,  on  Ending  in  Mexico, 
however  great  your  ambition  might  be.  yon  did  not  expect  to  gain  such  a 
position  in  so  short  a  time.  Facile  fortune  is  a  bad  adviser.  The  too  much 
of  yesterday  becomes  the  not  enough  of  to-day.  Wiien  you  saw  that  you 
succeeded  in  everything,  you  wished  to  crown  your  wurk  by  a  master-stroke, 
and  shelter  yourself  for  ever  from  the  freaks  of  that  iortune  which  is  to-day 
your  slave,  but  might  suddenly  turn  its  back  on  you  to-morrow.  I  do  not 
blame  yon.  You  acted  like  a  clever  gambler  ;  and,  being  afflicted  with  that 
vice  myself,  I  can  appreciate  in  others  a  quality  I  also  possess." 

"  Oh,"  the  count  said. 

"  Patience  !  I  am  there  now.  You  looked  around  yon,  and  your  eyes 
were  naturally  fixed  on  Don  Sylva  de  Torres.  That  cataUero  combined 
all  the  qualities  yon  sought  in  a  father-in-law,  for  what  you  wi.-lu-d  v. 
contract  a  rich  marriage.  Ah!  you  no  longer  interrupt  me.  It  seems  that 
the  account  I  am  giving  of  your  own  history  is  becoming  inu re-tin-.  Don 
Sylva  is  kind-hearted  and  credulous;  moreover,  he  has  a  colossal  fortune, 
even  for  this  country,  where  fortunes  are  so  large;  and  Donna  Anita  is  a 
charming  girl.  In  short,  you  introduced  yourself  to  Don  Sy! .  asked 

his  daughter's  hand,  which  he  promi-  -d  yon,  and  the  marri.  !:ave 


114  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

come  off  a  month  ago.  And  now,  caballero,  be  good  enough  to  redouble 
your  attention,  for  I  am  entering  on  the  most  interesting  part  of  my  narra- 
tive." 

"  Continue,  senor;  you  see  that  I  am  listening  with  all  necessary  patience." 

"  You  shall  be  rewarded  for  your  complaisance,  caballero,  be  at  rest,"  the 
unknown  said  with  a  tinge  of  mockery. 

"  I  am  anxious  to  hear  your  story,  senor." 

"  Here  you  have  it.  Unfortunately  for  your  schemes,  Donna  Anita  was 
not  consulted  by  her  father  in  the  choice  of  a  husband  :  for  a  long  time  she 
had  secretly  loved  a  young  man  who  had  done  her  important  service." 

"  And  you  know  the  man's  name  ?" 

"  Yes,  senor." 

"  Tell  it  me." 

"  Not  yet.  This  man  returned  her  love.  The  two  young  people  met 
without  Don  Sylva's  knowledge,  and  swore  an  eternal  love.  When  Donna 
Anita  was  constrained  by  her  father  to  regard  you  as  her  husband  she 
feigned  submission,  for  she  did  not  dare  openly  to  resist  her  father ;  but  she  - 
warned  the  man  she  loved,  and  the  couple,  after  renewing  their  love  vows, 
thought  on  a  way  to  break  off  this  fatal  marriage." 

The  count  had  risen  several  moments  back,  and  was  now  pacing  the  room. 
At  the  last  words  he  stopped  before  the  stranger. 

"  Then,"  he  said  in  a  gloomy  voice,  "  the  attempted  assassination  at  the 
Rancho " 

"  Was  a  means  employed  by  the  lover  to  get  rid  of  you  ?  Yes,  senor," 
the  stranger  calmly  said. 

"  This  man,  then,  is  only  a  dastardly  assassin !"  he  said  contemptuously. 

"  You  are  wrong,  caballero ;  he  only  wished  to  compel  you  to  retire 
The  proof  is  that  your  life  was- in  his  hands  and  he  did  not  take  it." 

"To  the  point,  then  !"  the  count  exclaimed.  "  Assassin  or  not,  you  wil. 
tell  me  his  name,  for  you  have  finished  now,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  Not  yet.  After  the  meeting  at  the  Rancho  you  preceded  to  your  hacien- 
da, accompanied  by  your  future  father-in-law  and  wife.  Even  then,  without 
leaving  you  a  moment's  rest,  the  hatred  of  Donna  Anita's  lover  pursued  you." 

"  Well  ?" 

"  Well,  need  I  give  you  further  explanation  ?  Cannot  you  understand 
that  this  man  was  in  league  with  the  red-skins  ?' 

"  And  Donna  Anita  knew  it  ?" 

"  I  will  not  affirm  that  positively,  but  it  is  probable." 

«  Oh !" 

"  Was  not  the  game  well  played  ?" 

The  count  bit  his  lips  till  the  blood  began  to  flow. 

"  And  you  know  who  carried  Donna  Anita  off?" 

«Ido." 

"  It  was  not  the  red-skins  ?" 

"  No." 

"  That  man,  then  ?" 

«  Yes." 

"  But  her  father  was  carried  off  to  ?5> 

"  I  know  it ;  but  it  was  not  at  all  with  his  will,  I  assure  you.1 

"Where  is  Don  Sylva  now  ?" 

"  Quietly  at  home  at  Guaymas." 

"  Is  his  daughter  with  him  ?" 

"No." 

"  She  is  with  that  man,  I  suppose  ?" 

"  You  are  a  perfect  sorcerer." 

"  And  you  know  where  they  are  ?" 


THE   TIGER- SLAYER.  113 

"Tdo." 

Quick  as  lightning  the  count  bounded  on  the  stranger,  seized  him  by  th» 
collar  with  his  left  hand,  and,  placing  a  pistol  against  his  breast,  .-limited  in 
a  hoars  •  voice, — 

"Now,  villain,  you  will  tell  me  where  they  are  !" 

"Is  that  the  game  we  are  playing?"  the  stranger  said.  "  Well,  as  you 
please,  caballero." 

Then  throwing  back  his  cloak  quickly,  he  aimed  at  the  count  two  pistols 
which  he  held  in  either  hand.  The  stranger's  movement  had  been  so  rapid 
that  the  count  was  unable  to  pi  event  it.  Besides,  a  sudden  idea  occurred 
to  him  at  the  moment.  Lowering  his  pistol,  and  thrusting  it  back  in  his 
girdle,  he  muttered : — 

"  1  was  mad  :  pardon  that  angry  movement." 

"  Most  heartily,"  the  unknown  replied,  laying  his  pistols  on  the  tablt 
within  roach. 

•  I'm  don  me  again.     Now  that  I  reflect  on  what  you  have  just  told  me,  I 
sec  that  your  object  was  to  be  of  service  to  me." 

The  stranger  made  a  gesture  of  affirmation. 

'   I)  it  there  is  one  thing  I  cannot  explain." 

"What  is  that?" 

"  The  manner  in  which  you  have  told  me  all  these  details." 

"  Oh  !  that  is  simple  enough." 

•  I  shall  feel  obliged  by  your  explanation." 

'•  U"it:,  ].Vu-.nv,  caballero.     Two  men  attacked  you  at  the  Rancho.* 

"  Yes." 

"  I  am  he  who  pulled  you  off  your  horse." 

"  Oh !"  the  count  said,  with  a  singular  intonation  in  his  voice. 

••  la  a  wm-d.  my  name  is  Cuchares!  I  am  a  lepero;  that  is  to  say,  I  like 
the  sun  better  than  the  shade,  rest  than  work,  and  would  sooner  stab  a  man, 
when  properly  paid.  f«>r  it,  than  do  a  good  action  which  brings  in  nothing, 
'•ompreheiid  me?" 

•  Perfectly.'' 

•i  come  to  an  understanding?" 
"  I  think 

41  \\v;!.  v,,  do  I,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  have  come  to  you." 
"  One  question  more." 
ik  it." 
\t  t Vis  moment  you  arc  betraying  your  friends?" 

Who?" 
"  The  per-ons  you  have  hitherto  served." 

•  I  man  '       myself,  e;il>elK-ro.  has  no  friends — only  customers." 
'•  Friends  or  customers,  you  are  betraying  them." 

-I'..oii!  \\e  have  settled   our  accounts.     They  owe  me  nothing,  nor  I 
them.     We  are  quits.     Look  ye,  caballero  :  in  every  b.usincss  there  are  two 
'viiful  man  can  work  equally  well.     I  have  drawn  all  I  could 
from  the  first,  so  I  am  going  to  try  the  other  now." 

The  count  heard  the  lepero  develope  this  strange  theory  with  an  amaze- 
ment mingled  with  terror.  A  cynicism  so  ripe  and  shameless  terrified  him 
and  yet  the  count  was  not  excessively  thin-skinned. 

"  We  will  agree,  then,  that  you  have  come  to  do  me  a  service." 

The  lepero  smiled. 

"  Let  us  understand  one  another,"  continued  he.    "I  say  so  not  to  startle 
the  consciences  of  the  gentlemen  who  were  present  on  my  entrance  ; 
between  ourselves,  I  will  be  mere  frank." 

"  Which  means  ?" 

"  That  I  have  come  to  sell  it  to  you." 


116  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

p 

"•Be  it  so !" 

"  I  shall  want  a  long  price." 
«  Very  well  !" 
"  A  very  long  price  " 
u  No  matter,  if  it  is  -worth  it." 

"  Come,"  the  lepero  exclaimed  joyfully,  "  you  are  just  the  man  I  expected 
to  find  you.  Well,  you  can  trust  in  me." 

"  1  must  do  so,  I  suppose." 

"  What  would  you  ?  It  is  the  way  of  the  world.  To-day  my  turn,  to- 
morrow yours.  Bah  !  you  will  have  no  cause  to  regret  a  few  thousand  pias- 
tres." 

"  First,  then,  my  rival's  name." 

"  It  will  cost  you  fifty  ounces,  and  you  cannot  think  it  dear." 

"  Here  they  are,"  said  the  count,  arranging  them  on  the  table. 

The  lepero  made  them  disappear  in  a  second  in  his  large*  pockets. 

"  The  name  of  your  rival,  caballero,  is  Don  Martial.  He  is  a  Tigrero,  and 
very  rich." 

"  I  fancy  I  have  heard  Don  Sylva  mention  that  name." 

"  It  is  very  likely.  Don  Sylva  cannot  endure  Don  Martial,  especially  since 
he  saved  Donria  Anita's  life." 

"  I  remember  that  circumstance  too  ;  Don  Sylva  frequently  mentioned  it 
to  me.  And  now,  how  did  Don  Martial  carry  the  girl  off  ?" 

"  Very  easily,  the  more  so  as  she  wished  nothing  better  than  to  follow 
him  During  your  fight  with  the  Apaches  he  placed  Donna  Anita  in  a  canoe 
into  which  I  had  already  thrown  her  father,  bound  and  gagged  ;  then  we  all 
four  went  off.  All  through  the  night  we  kept  to  the  river,  so  as  to  leave  no 
traces  of  our  flight,  and  by  daybreak  had  covered  fifteen  leagues.  No  longer 
fearing  discovery,  we  landed.  Indios  Mansos  sold  us  some  horses.  Don  Mar- 
tial ordered  me  to  take  the  young  girl's  father  to  Guaymas,  and  I  fulfilled  this 
difficult  commission  with  all  honor.  Don  Sylva  was  unwilling  to  follow  me  : 
but  at  last  I  managed  to  get  him  into  his  own  house,  where  I  left  him,  and 
went  back  to  Don  Martial,  who  had  requested  me  to  bring  him  certain  things, 
and  was  awaiting  me  at  a  spot  agreed  on  between  us." 

"  Ah  !"  the  count  said,  "  and  how  did  you  come  to  leave  him  ?" 

u  Good  gracious,  caballero  !  we  separated,  as  so  often  happens  to  the  best 
of  friends,  in  consequence  of  a  misunderstanding." 

"  Very  good  !    He  turned  you  off  ?" 

"  Nearly  so,  I  am  obliged  to  confess." 

"  Have  you  left  him  long  ?" 

The  lepero  winked  his  right  eye. 

"  No,"  he  answered. 

"  Can  you  lead  me  to  the  spot  where  he  now  is  ?" 

"  Yes,  whenever  you  please." 

«  Very  good  !     Is  it  far  ?" 

"  No,  but  pardon  me,  caballero,  let  us  settle  matters  at  once.  Are  you 
agreeoble  ?" 

"  Let  us  see." 

"  How  much  will  you  give  me  to  learn  at  what  spot  Don  Martial  and  Don- 
na Anita  are  concealed  ?" 

"  Two  hundred  ounces." 

«  Hand  them  over." 

14  Here  they  are." 

The  count  took  some  handsful  of  money  from  an  iron  box  in  a  corner  of  the 
room,  and  gave  them  to  the  lepero. 

"  There  is  a  pleasure  in  dealing  with  you,"  said  Cuchares,  as  he  sent  these 
to  join  the  others  with  admirable  celerity.  "  Thus  you  see  I  was  quite  right 
When  \  told  you  that  I  wns  going  to  do  you  a  service." 


THE     TIGER-SLAYER.  117 

"It  is  true,  ami   I  thank   you.     Wl.ere  :uv  D<»n  Marlia!  and  the  Donna  ?!> 
(>  At  the  mksion  of  Don  Fr.inci-co.     But  now    I    mu-t  ask    permission  to 

vou." 

'•  Not  yet." 
-Why  not   ?" 

4   For  t\\  ;   tin-  fir^t.  l»e"i:i>e,  in   spite  of  nil  tli  •  nuill  lencr  1  have 

in  you,  nothing  has  yet  prove  1  to  me  tli.it  yo-i  hive  t,.ld  the  ti\itu.'' 
'•  Oli  !"  .siid  the  K-pero  with  a  gesture  of  denial. 
'•  I  know  very  well  I  am   mistaken,  hut  I  am  naturally  suspicious." 

1  will  renia'n.      I5ut  now  for  yo  ir  second  reason." 
-  i<  it.     I  have  in  my  turn  a  service  to  ask  of  you." 
"To  be  paid  for  ?•' 

"of  ooiin 

'•  I  am  listening." 

'•  I  will  i:ive  you  a  hundred  ounces  to  lead  me  to  my  rival." 
:-irios  !''  the  lepero  exclaimed. 

"  One  hundred  ounces,"  the  count  said  again. 

'•  I  understand  you.  One  hundred  ounces — a  fine  sum.  But  look  you, 
count  :  I  am  a  costeno,  and  a  lepero  in  the  bargain,  This  desert  life  does 
not  suit  my  temperament  and  injures  my  health.  I  have  taken  an  oath  to 
have  no  more  of  it.  The  road  from  here  to  the  mission  is  a  bad  one.  We 
shall  have  to  cross  the  desert.  No,  taking  all  things  into  consideration,  it  is 
-ible.'; 

"  That  is  unlucky,"  coldly  replied  the  count. 
"It 

'•  because,"  he  continued,  "  I  would  have  given  you  not  one,  b~l  *..vo  hun- 
dred ounces." 

••  \V  d  the  other,  cocking  his  ear<. 

"  liuf  as  you  refuse — you  do  so,  I  think  ? — I  shall  be  obliged,  to  my  great 
have  you  shot." 

••  \Vliat  do  yo-i  mean  ?"  ejaculated  the  lepero,  with  a  start  of  terror. 

'•  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  you  are  so  clever  in  business  matters  that,  having 
found  two  >ide>  «>f  a  fj'iestioii,  I  am  terribly  frightened  le.^t  you  .shoul  1  li.i  1  a 
third." 

V-id  before  C'ichares  coiild  prevent  him  he  seized- the  pistols  that  l:iy  on 
the  table.  The  lejx'ro  tur.ied  livid. 

u  Par  Ion  me.  pardon  me/'  he  sal- 1  in  an  ill-assured  voice.  "  A  >  yoM  desiro 
it  so  CM-'-I  ly,  I  must  please  you  to  the  best  of  my  i*wer.  I  accept  the  two 
hundred  01, 

"  Vi-ry  irn.1 1  !''  the  count  exclaimed.  »*  I  thought,  too,  tliat  we  should  CO-MO 
to  nn  imder>tanding." 

He  went  to  f.-tch  the   money  from  tbe   iron  chest  ;  lr:t,  as  he   turn* 
back  on  the  lepero,  he  could  not.  si-e  the  singular  >mile  tliat   curved    Uio  li 
Had  he  done  so,  he  would  not  have  chanted  his  victory  so  loudly. 


C  H  APT  K  11     XVII  I. 

IN      WHICH      THE      STORY      GOES      BACK. 

THE  lepero1*  story,  true  in  its  foundation,  was  utt 
in  its  details.     Perhaps,  however,  he  had   an  interest  in 

de  Uiorailles,  which  the  reader  will  be  able  to  judge  of  bett.  '.-ling 

the  following  chapter. 

After  escaping  so  miraculously  from  the  hands  of  the  Apaches,  into  who.-.e 


118  THE    TIGER-SLAYER; 

power  he  had  fallen,  Cuchares  dived  and  sought  the  centre  of  the  river. 
On  mounting  to  the  surface  again  to  take  breath,  he  looked  around  him  :  he 
was  alone.  The  lepero  stifled  a  cry  of 'joy,  and,  after  a  moment's  re-flection, 
swam  vigorously  in  the  direction  of  the  mangroves,  where  Don  Martial,  warn- 
ed by  the  signal  he  had  been  compelled  to  give,  had  doubtlessly  been  await- 
ing him  some  time.  With  a  few  strokes  he  reached  the  trees,  beneath  whose 
shade  he  disappeared.  But  another  piece  of  good  luck  awaited  him  there  : 
the  canoe,  abandoned  to  itself,  had  floated  up  against  the  trunk  of  a  tree,  and 
remained  stationary. 

Cuchares,  leaving  the  water,  soon  succeeded  in  emptying  the  canoe  and 
making  it  float  again.  These  boats  are  so  light  that  the}'  can  be  easily  emptied, 
for  hi  these  regions  they  are  made  of  birch  bark,  which  the  Indians  strip 
from  the  tree  by  means  of  boiling  water. 

He  had  scarce  landed  ere  a  shadow  bent  over  him  and  muttered  in  his 
ear : — 

"  You  have  been  a  long  time." 

The  lepero  gave  a  start  of  terror  ;  but  he  recognised  Don  Martial.  In  a 
very  few  words  he  explained  to  him  all  that  happened. 

"  It  is  all  the  better,  as  you  have  come  here,"  the  Tigrero  said.  "  Hide 
yourself  in  the  mangrove,  and  do  not  stir  under  any  pretext  until  I  return." 

And  he  rapidly  retired.  Cuchares  obeyed  with  more  zeal  because  he 
heard  at  no  great  distance  from  him  the  sound  of  the  obstinate  contest  go- 
ing on  at  that  moment  between  the  French  and  Apaches.  Don  Martial, 
dagger  in  hand,  in  readiness  for  any  event,  had  glided  like  a  phantom  up  to 
a  clump  of  floripondins,  where  Donna  Anita  awaited  him  all  trembling.  Just 
as  he  was  going  to  pull  back  the  branches  that  separated  him  from  the  young 
girl,  he  stopped  with  panting  breast  and  frowning  brow.  She  was  not  alone. 
Her  voice,  quivering  with  emotion  or  auger,  was  harsh  and  imperious, 
whom  could  she  be  speaking  to  ?  Who  was  the  man  that  had  succeeded  in 
discovering  her  in  this  retired  spot,  where  she  fancied  herself  so  well  con- 
cealed, and  who,  it  seemed,  was  trying  to  force  her  to  follow  him  ?  The 
Tigrero  listened.  Soon  he  made  a  gesture  of  anger  and  menace.  He  had 
recognised  the  voice  of  the  man  with  whom  Donna  Anita  was  talking  :  it 
was  her  father. 

All  was  lost  ! 

The  haciendero  was  trying  to  lead  his  daughter  in  the  direction  of  the 
buildings,  while  employing  the  most  convincing  reasons.  He  did  not  appear 
to  suspect  the  motive  which  had  brought  his  daughter  to  that  spot.  Donna 
Anita  refused  to  go  away,  alleging  the  danger  of  being  met  by  an  Indian 
marauder,  and  thus  falling  into  the  danger  she  so  earnestly  wished  to  avoid. 

Don  Martial  struck  his  brow  ;  a  singularsmile  played  on  his  lips  ;  his  eyes 
flashed  fire,  and  he  noiselessly  slipped  back  to  the  river  bank.  Still  the  com- 
bat was  going  on  :  at  times  it  appeared  to  draw  nearer — oaths  and  yells 
could  be  distinguished  ;  at  others,  flashes  lit  up  the  scene,  and  a  shower  of 
bullets  whizzed  through  the  air  with  that  sharp,  hissing  sound  which  terrifies 
novices  in  warfare. 

"  In  the  name  of  Heaven,  my  beloved  daughter,"  Don  Sylva  urged,  "  come  ! 
We  have  not  a  moment  to  lose  ;  in  a  few  seconds  our  retreat  may  be  perhaps 
cut  off.  Come,  I  implore  you  !" 

"  No,  my  father  !"  she  said,  shaking  her  head.  "  I  am  resigned  :  whatever 
may  happen,  I  repeat  to  you,  I  will  not  leave  this  spot." 

"  It  is  madness  "  the  haciendero  exclaimed  in  great  grief.  "  You  wish  to 
die,  then  ?» 

"  What  matter  to  me  ?"  she  said  sorrowfully.  "  Am  I  not  condemned  in 
every  way  ?  Heaven  is  my  witness,  father,  that  I  would  gladly  die  to  escape 
the  marriage  prepared  for  me." 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  119 

"  My  daughter,  in  the  Virgin's  name •" 

"  What  do  you  rare,  lather,  whether  I  fall  into  the  hands  of  Pagan  savages 
to-day,  when  to-inurrow  you  would  surrender  me  with  your  own  hands  to  a 
mail  1  di-tost  ?" 

"  Speak  not  to  me  thus,  daughter.     Besides,  the  moment  is  very  badly 
n,  it  >.-em<  to  me,  f»r  a  di-cus>ion  like  this.     Come,  the  shouts  are  grow- 
ing more  furious  ;  it  will  soon  be  too  late." 

,  if  you  think  proper,"  she  said  resolutely.     "  I  shall  remain  here,  what- 
ever may  happen." 

"  As  it  is  so,  as  you  obstinately  resist  me,  I  will  employ  force  to  compel 
your  obed'n 

The  girl  threw  her  left  arm  round  the  trunk  of  a  cedar  tree,  and  looking 
with  intense  resolution  at  her  father,  exclaimed  : — 

••  Do  .-.  if  y->u  dare,  oh  my  father  !  but  I  warn  you  that,  at  the  first  step 
y<»u  take  toward  me,  that  will  happen  which  you  want  to  avoid.  I  will  utter 
such  piercing  shrieks  that  they  must  reach  the  ears  of  the  Pagans,  who  will 
run  up." 

Don  Sylva  stopped  in  hesitation  :  he  knew  his  daughter's  firm  and  deter- 
mined character,  and  that  she  would  at  once  put  this  threat  in  execution. 
A  few  minutes  elapsed,  during  which  father  and  daughter  stood  face  to  face, 
not  uttering  a  word,  or  making  even  a  gesture. 

Suddenly  the  branches  were  noisily  parted,  .yielding  a  passage  to  two  men, 
or  rather  two  demons,  who,  rushing  with  panther  bounds  on  the  haciendero, 
hurled  him  to  the  ground.  Before  Don  Sylva  was  able  to  recognise  the  ene- 
mies who  attacked  him  so  unexpectedly  by  the  pale  beams  of  the  stars,  he 
\\  a-  :u^t  d  and  bound,  while  a  handkerchief  twisted  round  his  head  hid 
from  him  all  external  objects,  and  prevented  him  seeing  what  his  daughter's 
fate  might  be.  The  latter,  at  this  sudden  attack,  uttered  aery  of  terror,  at 
prudently  checked,  for  she  had  recognised  Don  Martial. 

"Silence  !"  the  Tigrero  hurriedly  said  in  alow  voice.  "  I  could  manage  in 
no  other  way.  Come,  come,  your  father,  you  know,  is  a  sacred  object  to  me." 

The  girl  made  no  reply.  At  a  sign  from  Don  Martial,  Cuchares  seized  Don 
Sylva,  threw  him  on  his  shoulders,  and  went  toward  the  mangroves. 

'•  Where  are  we  going  ?"  Donna  Anita  asked  in  a  trembling  voice. 

u  To  a   place  where  we  can  be  happy  together,"  the  Tigrero  answered  gen- 
tly, as  he  lifted  her  with  a  pas>ionate  movement  and  ran  off  with  her  to  the 
Donna    Anita    made   no  reliance  ;  sin.-  >milcd  and  threw  her  arms 

room 

Don 

encouraging  his  lovely  burden  by  signs  and  looks.  •  Cuchares  had  placed  Don 
Svlva  in  the  bottom  of  the  canoe,  and.  paddles  in  hand,  was  impatiently 
awaiting  the  Tigivro's  arrival  :  for  the  combat  >eemed  doubled  in  insensity, 
although,  from  the  number  of  musket  shots,  it  was  easy  to  see  that  victory 
would  rest  with  the  French. 

"  What  shall  we  do  ?'  Cuchares  inquired. 

•  ( iet  into  the  middle  of  the  river,  and  slip  down  with  the  current." 
"  But  our  horses  ?" 

"  1.,  <>;;ix, -ives   first  ;  we  will  think  of  the  horses  afterwards.    Jt 

is  evident  that  the  white  men  are  the  victors.     As  soon  as  the  fight  is 
Count  de  Lhorailles  will  send  everywhere  in  search  of  his  guests.     It  is  im- 
portant not  to  leave  any  trail,  for  the  French  might  find  us  again  by  it." 

•  Mill,  1  fancy "Cuchaio  timidly  oWrved. 

"  Be  off !"  said  the  Tigrero  in  a  peremptory  tone,  kicking  the  canoe  from 
the  bank. 

The  first  moments  of  the  voyage  passed  in  silence  :  each  reflected  on  the 
peculiar  position  i'i  which  he  v, 


vl  her  lover's  n«-rk  to  keep  her  balance  during  this  steeple-chase,  in  which 
[  Martial    leaped  from  branch    to  branch,  holding  on  by  the  cree|>er>  and 


120  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

Don  Martial  had  assumed  a  tremendous  responsibility  by  staking,  as  it 
were,  on  one  throw  the  happiness  of  the  girl  he  loved  and  his  own.  Besides, 
the  haciendero  lying  at  the  bottom  of  the  canoe  gave  him  great  subject  for 
thought.  His  po>ition  was  giave,  its  solution  difficult. 

Donna  Anita,  with  drooping  head  and  absent  glance,  was  dreamily  letting 
her  dainty  hand  glide  through  the  water  over  the  side  of  the  canoe. 

Cuchares,  while  paddling  furiously,  was  thinking  that  the  life  he  led  was 
anything  rather  than  agreeable,  and  that  he  was  far  happier  at  Guaymas,  as 
he  lay  with  his  head  in  the  shade,  and  his  feet  in  the  sun,  in  the  church 
porch,  enjoying  his  siesta,  refreshed  by  the  sea  breeze,  and  lulled  to  sleep  by 
the  nn'sterious  murmur  of  the  surf  on  the  shingle. 

As  for  Don  ISylva  de  Torres,  he  was  not  reflecting.  A  prey  to  one  of  those 
dumb  passions  which,  if  they  lasted  any  length  of  time,  must  end  in  insanity, 
he  frantically  bit  the  gag  that  shut  his  mouth,  and  writhed  in  his  bonds, 
while  unable  to  break  them. 

The  various  sounds  of  the  contest  gradually  died  out.  For  some  time  lon- 
ger the  travellers  remained  silent,  absorbed  not  only  in  their  thoughts,  but 
affected  by  that  gentle  melancholy  produced  on  all  nervous  natures  by  that 
solemn  calmness  and  striking  harmony  of  the  wilderness,  whose  sublime  and 
majestic  grandeur  no  human  pen  is  capable  of  describing. 

The  stars  were  beginning  to  pale  in  the  sky :  an  opal  line  was  vaguely  drawn 
in  the  horizon  :  the  clumsy  alligators  were  quitting  the  mud  and  going  in 
search  of  their  morning  meal ;  the  owls,  perched  on  the  trees,  were  saluting 
the  approaching  sunrise  ;  the  coyotes  glided  in  startled  bands  along  the  shore 
•with  hoarse  barks ;  the  wild  beasts  were  retreating  to  their  hidden  dens, 
heavy  with  sleep  and  fatigue  ;  day  was  on  the  point  of  breaking.  Donna 
Anita  leaned  coquettishly  on  Don  Martial's  shoulder. 

"  Where  are  we  going  ?"  she  asked  him  in  a  gentle  resigned  voice. 

"  We  are  flying,"  he  laconically  answered. 

"  We  have  been  descending  the  river  in  this  way  for  more  than  six'hours} 
borne  by  the  current  and  helped  by  your  four  vigorously-pulled  paddles.  Are 
we  not  out  of  reach  of  danger  ?" 

"  Yes,  long  ago.     It  is  not  any  fear  of  the  French  which  troubles  me  now  :" 

«  What  then  ?» 

The  Tigrero  pointed  to  Don  Sylva,  who,  having  exhausted  his  strength 
and  passion  had  at  length  tacitly  recognised  his  powerlessness,  and  was  sleep- 
ing quite  exhausted. 

"  Alas  !"  she  said,  "  you  are  right.  Things  can  not  go  on  thus,  my  friend  j 
the  position  is  intolerable." 

;£  If  you  will  allow  me  to  set  as  I  think  proper,  before  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  your  father  will  thank  me." 

"  Do  you  not  know  that  I  am  entirely  yours?" 

"  Thanks !"  he  said.  Turning  to  Cuchares,  he  muttered  a  few  words  in 
his  ear. 

"  Ah,  ah  !  that  is  an  idea,"  thelepero  said  with  a  grin.  Two  minutes  later 
the  canoe  ran  ashore.  Don  Sylva.  delicately  borne  by  two  power  ul  hands, 
was  carried  ashore  without  waking. 

"  Now  it  is  your  turn,"  Don  Martial  said  to  the  girl  :  "  for  the  success  of 
the  scheme  I  have  formed,  you  must  allow  yourself  to  be  fastened  to  tlm 
tree." 

"Do  so,  my  friend." 

f     The  Tigrero  took  her  into  his  vigorous  arms,  bore  her  ashore  and  in  a 
twinkling  had  fastened  her  tightly  by  the  waist  to  the  stern  of  a  tree. 

"  Now,"  he  said  hurriedly,  "  remember  this.  Your  father  and  yourself 
were  carried  off  from  the  hacienda  by  the  Apaches ;  accident  brought  us  in 
your  way,  and " 


li 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  121 

"  You  save  us,  I  suppose  ?°  she  said  with  a  smile. 

"Quite  correct;  but  utter  shrill  cries,  as  if  you  felt  in  great  alarm.    You 
understand,  do  you  not  ?" 
»  Perfectly." 

The  play  was  performed  in  the  way  arranged.  The  jrirl  uttered  piercing 
shrieks,  to  which  the  two  adventurers  replied  by  discharging  their  rillcs  and 
>istols ;  they  then  rushed  toward  the.  hancndero,  whom  they  hastened  to 
iberate  from  his  bonds,  and  to  whom  tli  1  not  only  the  u>e  of  his 

limb>,  but  also  of  his  eyes  and  tongue.  Don  Sylva  half  rose,  and  looked 
around  him  :  he  saw  his  daughter  fastened  to  a  tree  from  which  two  men  were 
freeing  her.  The  haciendero  raised  his. eyes  to  heaven,  and  uttered  a 
fervvnt  prayer. 

So  soon  as  Donna  Anita  was  free,  she  ran  to  her  father,  and  cast  herself 
in  his  arms.  As  she  embraced  him  she  hid  her  face,  which  blushed,  perhaps, 
for  shame  at  this  unworthy  deception,  on  the  old  man's  breast. 

••  My  poor  darling  child,1'  lie  murmured,  with  tears  in  his  eyes,  "It  was 
for  you,  for  you  alone-,  I  trembled  during  the  whole  of  this  fearful  night." 

The  girl  made  no  reply,  for  she  felt  stung  to  the  heart  by  this  ix'proach, 
Don  Martial  and  Cuchares,  judging  the  moment  favorable,  then  approached, 
holding  their  smoking  rifles  in  their  hands.  On  recognising  them  a  cloud 
:  over  the  hacu-ndero's  face — a  vague  suspicion  gnawed  at  his  heart; 
lie  bent  a  .searching  glance  on  the  two  men  and  on  his  daughter,  and  rose 
with  frowning  brow  and  quivering  lips,  though  not  uttering  a  word.  Don 
Martial  was  embarrassed  by  this  silence,  which  he  had  been  far  from  antici- 
pating. After  the  service  he  was  supposed  to  have  done  Don  Sylva,  the 
duty  of  sjK'aking  first  fell  upon  him. 

••  I  am  happy,"  he  >aid  in  an  embarrassed  voice,  "  to  have  arrived  here  so 
fortunately,  Don  Sylva,  as  I  was  enabled  to  save  you  from  the  red-skins." 

"I  thank  you,  Senor  Don  Martial,"  the  haciendero  answered  dryly.  "I 
could  expect  nothing  less  from  your  gallantry.  It  was  written,  so  it  seems, 
that  -after  saving  the  daughter,  you  must  also  save  the  father.  You  are  des- 
tined, I  see  it,  to  be  the  liberator  of  my  entire  family:  receive  my  sincere 
than!. 

These  words  were    uttered  with   an   accent  of  railery  that   pierced    the 
ro  like  an  airow:  he  could  not  find  a  word  in  reply,  and  bowed  awk- 
ardly  inordi-rto  hide  his  embarrassment. 

••My  father,"  Donna  Anita  said  in  a  caressing  tone,  "  Don  Martial  haa 
risked  hi-  |j 

l>  Have  1  not  thanked  him  for  it  ?"  he  continued.  "The  afl'air  was  a  sharp 
one.  ;t^  but  the  heathens  escaped  very  qukkly.  AN  as  there  no  ono 

killed  r 

And  saying  this  the  haciendero  affected  to  look  carefully  around  him. 
Don  Martial  drew  himself  up. 

"Senor  I)"n  Sylva  de  Torres,"  he  said  in  a  firm  voice,  "as  chance  has 
brought  us  once  auain  face  to  face  permit  me  to  tell  you  that  feu  in. n  are  so 

i  to  you  as  myself." 
•  *  You  have  ju>t  proved,  caballero." 

••  I..-: a  \c  that  out  of  sight,"  he  went  on  hurriedly.  "Now  that  you  are 
free,  an  1  can  a«-t  as  you  pN-a-e.  command  me.  What  would  you  of  me?  I 
am  ready  to  do  anything  you  please,  in  order  to  prove  to  you  how  happy 
I  should  be  in  doing  you  a  service." 

"That  i>  language  I  can  understand,  cnballero,  and  to  which  I  will  frankly 
respond.  Important  reasons  compel  me  to  return  to  the  French  colory  of 
Guet/alli,  whence  the  heathens  carried  me  off  so  treacherously." 

"  When  do  you  wish  to  start  ?  ' 

"  At  once,  if  that  be  possible." 


122  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

"Everything  is  possible,  cabal  lero.  Still,  I  would  call  your  attention  to 
the  fact  that  we  are  nearly  thirty  leagues  from  that  hacienda ;  that  the 
country  in  which  we  now  are  is  a  desert ;  that  we  should  have  great  diffi- 
culty in  finding  horses  :  and,  with  the  best  will  in  the  world,  we  cannot 
make  the  journey  on  foot." 

"  Especially  my  daughter,  I  presume,"  the  other  remarked  with  a  sardonic 
smile. 

"  Yes,"  the  Tigrcro  said,  "  especially  tbe  senorita." 

"  What  else  is  to  be  done  ?  for  I  must  return  there — with  my  daughter," 
he  added,  purposely  laying  stress  on  the  last  three  words,  "  and  that  so  soon 
as  possible." 

The  Tigrero  did  not  utter  the  exact  truth  in  telling  Don  Sylva  they  were 
thirty  leagues  from  the  colony.  It  was  not  more  than  eighteen  ;  but  in  a 
country  like  this,  where  roads  do  not  exist,  fifteen  leagues  are  an  almost 
insurmountable  obstacle  to  a  man  not  thoroughly  acquainted  wfth  desert 
life.  Don  Sylva,  though  he  had  never  travelled  under  other  than  favorable 
circumstances — that  is  to  say,  with  all  the  comfort  it  is  possible  to  obtain  in 
these  remote  regions — was  aware,  theoretically,  if  not  practically,  of  all  the 
difficulties  which  would  rise  before  him  with  each  step,  and  what  obstacles 
would  check  his  movements.  His  resolution  was  made  almost  immediately. 

Don  Sylva,  like  a  good  many  of  his  couutrymen,  was  gifted  with  rare 
obstinacy.  When  he  had  formed  a  plan,  the  greater  the  obstacles  which 
prevented  its  accomplishment,  the  greater  his  determination  to  carry  it  out. 

"Listen,"  he  said  to  Don  Martial  ;  "I  wish  to  be  frank  with  you.  I  am 
sure  I  tell  you  nothing  new  in  announcing  my  daughter's  marriage  with  the 
Count  de  Lhorailles.  That  marriage  must  be  performed  :  I  have  sworn  it, 
aud  it  shall  be,  whatever  may  be  said  or  done  to  impede  it.  And  now  I  am 
about  to  make  trial  of  the  devotion  you  boast  of  offering  me." 

«  Speak,  senor." 

"  You  will  send  your  companion  to  the  Count  de  Lhorailles  ;  he  will  carry 
him  a  message  to  calm  his  uneasiness  and  announce  my  speedy  arrival." 

«  Good  !" 

«  Will  you  do  it  ?" 

"  At  once." 

"  Thanks  !  Now,  as  regards  yourself  personally,  T  leave  you  at  liberty  to 
follow  or  leave  us  at  your  pleasure  ;  but  in  the  first  place,  we  want  horses, 
arms,  and,  above  all,  an  escort.  I  do  not  wish  to  fall  once  more  into  the  hands 
of  the  heathen.  Perhaps  I  shall  not  have  the  good  fortune  to  escape  from 
them  so  easily  as  on  this  occasion." 

"  Remain  here  :  in  two  hours  I  will  return  with  horses.  As  for  an  escort, 
I  will  try  and  procure  you  one,  although  I  do  not  promise  it.  As  you  allow 
me  to  do  so,  1  will  accompany  you  till  you  have  rejoined  the  count.  I  hope, 
during. the  period  I  may  have  the  felicity  of  passing  near  you,  to  sucoeed  in 
proviug  to  you  that  you  have  judged  me  wrongfully." 

These  words  were  pronounced  with  such  an  accent  of  truth  that  the  haci- 
endero  felt  moved. 

"  Whatever  may  happen,"  he  said,  "  I  thank  you  :  you  will  none  the  less 
have  done  me  an  immense  service,  for  which  I  shall  be  ever  grateful  to  you." 
Don  Sylva  tore  a  leaf  from  his  pocket-book,  <>n  which  he  wrote'  a  few  lines 
in  pencil,  folded  it,  and  handed  it  to  the  Tigrero. 
''  Are  you  sure  of  that  man  ?"  he  asked  him. 

"  As  of  myself,"  Don  Martial  replied  evasively.  "  Be  assured  that  be  will 
»ee  the  count." 

The  haciendero  made  a  sign  of  satisfaction  as  the  Tigrero  went  up  to  Cu- 
chares. 

"  Listen,"  hf>  said  aloud  as  he  gave  him  the  paper.  "  Within  two  days  you 
must  have  delivered  this  to  the  chief  of  Guet/alli.  You  understand  me?" 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  123 

"  Yes,"  the  lepero  replied. 

"Go,  and  may  Heaven  protect  you  from  all  evil  encounters  !     In  a  quarter 
of  an  hour  l»eliiiid  that  mound,"  he  hurriedly  added  in  a  whisjer. 
"Agreed,"  the  other  said   with  a  bow. 
"Take  the  canoe."  the  Tbivm  continued. 

Had  the  imciendero  conceived  any  doubts,  they  were  dissipated  when  he 
s-iw  ruchares  leap  into  the  canoe,  seixe  the  paddles,  and  depart  without  ex- 
cliangiiiii-  a  signal  with  the  Tigrero,  or  even  turning  his  head. 

"  The  fir.-t  part  of  your  instructions  is  fulfilled,"  said  the  Tigrero,  return- 
ing to  Don  Sylva's  sidt.     "  Xow  for  the  second  part.     Take    my  pistols  and 
musket.     In  case  of  any  alarm  you  can  defend  yourself.     I   leave  you  here. 
Pray  do  not  move,  and  within  two  hours  at  the  latest  1  will  rejoin  you." 
"  Do  you  know  where  to  find  horses  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  remember  that  the  desert  is  my  domain  ?"  he  returned  with 
a  melancholy  smile.  "  I  am  at  home  here,  as  I  shall  prqye  to  you.  Fare- 
well for  the  present." 

And  he  went  off  in  a  direction  opposed  to  that  taken  by  the  canoe.     When 
he  had   disappeared  from   Don  Sylva's  sight   uehind  a  clump  of  trees  and 
shrubs,  the  Tigrero  turned  sharply  to  the  right  and  ran  back.     Cuchares,  neg- 
ligently seated  on  the  ground,  was  smoking  a  cigarette  while  awaiting  him. 
"No  words,  but  deeds,"  the  Tigrero  said.     "  We  have  no  time  to  waste." 
"  I  am    listening," 

"  Look  at  this  diamond  ;"  and  he  pointed  to  a  ring  through  which  his  neck 
handkerchief  was  drawn. 

"  It  is  worth  6000  piastres,"  Cnchares  said,  examining  it  like  a  judge. 
Don  Martial  handed  it  to  him. 
"  I  give  it  you,"  he  said. 
"  What  am"  I  to  do  for  it  ?" 
"  First  hand  me  the  letter." 
«  Here  it  is." 

Don  Martial  took  it  and  tore  it  into  impalpable  fragments. 
•  "  What  next  ?"  Cuchares  continued. 

"  Next,  I  have  another  diamond  like  that  one  at  your  service.  You  know 
me  V 

"  Yes  ;  I  accept." 
"  On  one  condition." 

"  I  know  it,"  said  the  other  with  a  meaning  sign. 
"  And  you  accept  ?" 
"  Of  course  I  do." 
"It  is  a  bargain." 

"  He  shall  never  trouble  you  again." 
"  Good  !     But  you  understand  that  I  shall  need  proofs." 
"  You  shall  have  them." 
"  Good-by,  then." 

The  two  accomplices  parted,  well  satisfied  with  each  other.  A  nod  was 
as  good  as  a  wink  in  such  a  case.  We  have  seen  how  Cuchares  acquitted 
himself  of  the  mission  intrusted  to  him  by  Don  Sylva.  Don  Martial,  after 
his  short  conversation  with  Cuchares,  went  to  look  for  hordes.  Two  hours 
after  he  had  returned.  He  not  only  brought  excellent  hor>e>,  but  had  hired 
four  peons,  OP  men  who  called  themselves  so,  to  act  as  escort.  Thehaikn- 
dero  comprehended  all  the  delicacy  of  Don  Martial's  conduct  :  and  though 
the  air  and  garb  of  his  defenders  were  not  completely  orthodox,  he  warmly 
thanked  the  Tigrero  for  the  trouble  he  had  taken  to  supply  his  wants.  He- 
assured  as  to  his  journey,  he  breakfasted  with  good  appetite  <>n  a  lump  of 
venison,  washed  down  with  pulque,  which  Don  Martial  had  procured.  Then, 
as  soon  as  the  meal  was  over,  the  little  band,  well  armed,  .set  out  resolutely 


124  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

in   the  direction  of  Guetzalli,  where  Don  Sylva  expected  to  arrive  in  three 
days,  if  nothing  thwarted  his  calculations. 


CHAPTER     XIX.' 

IN     THE     PRAIRIE. 

TUB  Mexican  frontier,  up  to  the  old  Jesuit  missions,  now  abandoned  and 
falling  in  ruins,  forms  the  skirt  of  the  great  prairie  of  the  Rio  Gila  or  of 
Apacheria,  which  extends  as  far  as  the  mournful  desert  of  Del  Norte.  In 
this  portion  of  the  prairie  nature  expands  all  that  richness  of  growth  and 
vegetation  which  may  be  in  vain  sought  elsewhere. 

Guetzalli  was  built  by  Count  de  Lhorailles  on  the  ruins  of  a  once  flourish- 
ing mission  of  the  reverend  Jesuits,  which  the  decree  commanding  their  ex- 
pulsion had  compelled  them  to  abandon.  Without  entering  into  discussion 
for  or  against  the  Jesuits,  we  will  say,  en  passant,  that  these  clergy  rendered 
immense  servicees  in  America  ;  that  all  the  missions  thus  founded  in  the 
desert  prospered  ;  that  the  Indians  flocked  in  by  thousands  to  range  them- 
selves beneath  their  paternal  laws  :  and  that  certain  missions,  whose  names 
we  could  quote  were  it  necessary,  counted  as  many  as  sixty  thousand  neo- 
phytes ;  that,  as  a  proof  of  the  excellence  of  their  system,  when  the  order 
was  given  them  to  give  up  their  mission  to  other  monks,  and  withdraw,  their 
proselytes  implored  them  to  resist  this  unjust  ostracism,  and  offered  to  de- 
fend them  against  everybody. 

The  Jesuits  have  the  greater  claim  to  this  tardy  justice  we  now  seek  to 
do  them  in  the  fact  that,  in  spite  of  the  many  years  that  have  elapsed  since 
their  departure,  and  although  all  the  men  they  brought  into  the  bosom  of 
the  church  by  incessant  labour  have  returned  to  a  savage  life,  the  remem- 
brance of  the  good  deeds  of  these  pious  missionaries  still  lives  in  the  hearts 
of  the  Indians,  and  forms  at  night  round  the  camp  tires  the  staple  of  con- 
versation, so  deeply  engraved  on  the  minds  of  these  primitive  beings  is  the 
small  amount  of  kindness  shown  them. 

Don  Sylva  de  Torres  wished  to  reach  the  colony  of  Guetzalli  again  so  soon 
as  possible,  and  by  the  most  direct  route.  Unfortunately  he  was  obliged  to 
cross,  as  the  crow  flies,  a  large  extent  of  country  through  which  no  road  ran. 
Moreover,  owing  to  his  topographical  ignorance  of  the  prairie,  he  was  com- 
pelled to  trust  in  Don  Martial,  an  excellent  guide  in  every  respect,  whose 
sagacity  and  thorough  knowledge  of  the  desert  he  did  not  for  a  moment  doubt, 
but  in  whom  he  placed  but  slight  confidence,  while  unable  to  explain  his  mo- 
tive even  to  himself.  tj 

Still  the  Tigrero  (apparently  at  least)  gave  proofs  of  his  entire  devotion 
to  the  haciendero,  leading  him  by  the  most  beaten  tracks,  making  him  avoid 
difficult  passages,  and  watching  with  unequalled  care  and  solicitude  over  the 
safety  of  his  little  band.  Each  evening  at  sunset  the  party  encamped  on  the 
top  of  an  open  hill,  whence  a  large  quantity  of  ground  could  be  surveyed,  in 
order  to  guard  against  any  surprise.  On  the  evening  of  the  fourth  day,  af- 
ter a  fatiguing  march  over  an  irregular  tract,  Don  Martial  reached  a  hill 
where  he  proposed  to  camp. 

The  haciendero  greeted  the  offer  with  greater  pleasure,  for,  being  but  little 
accustomed  to  this  mode  of  travelling,  he  felt  extremely  fatigued.  After  a 
frugal  meal,  composed  of  maize  tortillas,  and  frijoles  powdered  with  the  hot- 
test spices,  and  washed  down  with  pulque,  Don  Sylva,  without  even  think- 
ing of  smoking  a  cigarette  (his  custom  always  after  a  meal),  wrapped  him- 
self in  his  xarape,  laid  down  with  his  feet  toward  the  fire,  and  fell  off  almost 
immediately  into  a  profound  sleep. 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  125 

Don  Martial  and  the  young  girl  remained  lor  some  time  silently  opposite 
each  other,  their  eves  lixed  <>.,  the  liaciendero,  an  1  unea-ily  watching  tho 
phases  of  his  sleep!  At  length,  when  the  Tigrero  \va-  persuaded  that  Don 
Sylva  was  really  asleep,  he  bent  over  her,  and  muttered  in  her  ear  in  a  gentle 
voice  : — 

"Pardon,  Donna  Anita,  pardon  !" 

"For  what  ?''  she  asked  in  surpi i 

ran  are  suffering  through  me." 

lb<9  said  with  an  enchanting  smile,  tt  it  is  not  through  myself 
too,  a  -a  ?" 

"Oh,  thank  you  !"  he  exclaimed.  '•  You  restoiv  to  my  heart  that  courage 
wbich  1  felt  dying  out.  Alas  !  how  will  all  this  end  ?'' 

••  \VelK  I  a;ii  convinced,"  she  said  quickly.  'k  We  must  he  patient.  My 
father  belie\e  me,  will  soon  change  his  opinion  about  you." 

The  Ti-T'-ro  -smiled  sorrowfully. 

->tili,"   he -aid."  1  cannot,  carry  you  about  the  prairie  indefinitely" 

••  That  is  tni<-/'  >he  remarked  despondently.     "  \Vhat  is  to  be  done  ?'' 

"  I  do  not  know.  For  the  last  two  days  we  have  only  been  moving  round 
the  colony,  from  which  we  are  scarce  three  leagues  distant,  and  yet  1  cannot 
resolve  to  enter  it." 

••  Alas  !"  the  girl  murmured. 

••  An  !'•  he  continued  with  a  degree  of  animation  in  his  glance,  "  why  is 
this  man  your  father,  Donna  Anita  ?'' 

"Sp  >.  my  friend,"  she  said  hurriedly,  laying  her  little   hand  on  his 

mouth  as  if  to  prevent  him  saying  more.  "  Why  desp  iir  1  (Jod  is  good  ; 
He  will  not  fail  us.  \Ve  know  not  wiiat  lie  has  in  reserve  for  us  :  let  us 
place  our  tru>t  in  Him  !'' 

"Still,"  he  replied,  shaking  his  head,  "  our  position  is  not  tenable.  It  is 
impt»!»ible  to  go  on  at  hap-ha/ard.  Your  father,  in  spite  of  his  ignorance 
of  the  country,  will  at  lengtft  perceive  1  am  deceiving  him,  and  1  shall  be 
hopelessly  ruined  iu  his  opinion.  On  the  other  hand,  by  proceeding  to  the 
colony,  I  place  you  in  the  hands  once  more  of  the  man  you  are  lonvd  to 
many.  1  cannot  resolve  on  doing  this  odious  deed.  Oh!  1  would  joyfully 
give  ten  year.-,  of  my  life  to  know  ho\v  I  ought  to  act." 

At  this  moment,  as  if  Heaven  had  heard  his  words,  and  hastened  to  reply 
immediately,  t.  M  w-re  mechanically  fixed  on  the  prairie, 

which  at  this  moment  wa>  buried  in  oh-curity.  >aw  a  short,  distance  oil,  in 
the  midst  of  ?  j,  a  luminous  p(.int  ari-e  in  the  air  twice,  tracing  in 

it>  p;i<-.i'_r<-  quaint,  paraf  »hi-.       At  th<-  sam«-  moment    l>oii  Martial'.-    \>\:\ 
ear  heard,  or  limned  it  heanl,  the  sMppre— «"1    .-noi-ting  of  a  lie. 

"It  i.>  rxtraordinary,"  he  mutten-il.  a-  if  speaking  to  Ininseif.  "  What  can 
it  mean  ?  Is  it  a  signal  .;  Still  we  are  alone  here.  Through  the  whole  of 
the  pa>t  day  1  ha\eiiot  cuught  sight  of  a  single  trail  ;  hut  that .  li.uht 

"What  is  the  matter,  my  friend  ?*'  Donna  Anita  a>ke.l  anxiously.  ••  Von 
seem  retftleflB.  Can  any  danger  menace  us  ?  Speak  !  You  know  I  am 
brave  ;  and  by  your  side*  what  can  1  fear  ?  Hide  not  I. ing  from  me.  Some- 
thing extraordinarv  is  taking  place,  i>  it  not  T* 

"  Well,  yes,"  he  replied,  resolutely  making  up  his  mind,  ">omething  ex- 
traordinary is  reallv  hap{M.Miing;  but  calm  yourself,  I  do  not  believe  there  is 
anything  tor  yon  to" fear." 

'•  But  what  is  it  ?     I  saw  nothing.1' 

"Stay  :  hx>k  there  !"   he  >aid  quiekly.  and  stretched  out  his  arm. 

The  girl  looked  attentively,  and  saw  what  the  Tigrero  had  noticed  a  few 
moments  previously — a  redd'ish  dot  sparkling  in  the  gloom,  and  describing 
interlaced  lines. 

"  'Tis  evidently  a  signal,"  the  Tigrero  went  on.  "  Somebody  is  concealed 
there." 


126  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  Do  you  expect  any  one  ?"  she  asked  him. 

"  No  ;  and  yet,  I  know  not  why,  but  I  fancy  that  signal  can  only  be  in- 
tended for  me." 

"  Still  recollect  that  we  are  in  the  prairie,  and  probably,  without  suspect- 
ing it,  surrounded  by  bands  of  Indian  hunters.  They  may  be  corresponding 
with  each  other  by  means  of  that  light  which  we  have  seen  twice  gleaming 
before  our  eyes." 

<fc  No,  Donna  Anita,  you  are  mistaken.  We  are  not,  at  any  rate  for  the 
present,  surrounded  by  any  Indians :  we  are  quite  alone." 

"  How  can  you  know  that,  my  friend,  since  you  have  not  left  us  for  a  mo- 
ment to  go  and  look  for  trails  ?" 

"  Donna  Anita,  my  well  beloved  !"  he  said  in  a  stern  voice,  "  the  prairie  is  a 
book  on  which  Heaven's  secrets  are  written  in  ineffaceable  letters,  which  the 
man  accustomed  to  desert  life  can  read  currently.  The  wind  passing  through 
the  air,  the  deer  or  buffalo  grazing  on  the  tufted  grass,  the  alligator  sloth- 
fully  wallowing  in  the  mud,  are  to  me  certain  signs  in  which  I  cannot  be 
mistaken.  For  the  last  two  days  we  have  seen  no  Indian  sign ;  the  buffa- 
loes and  other  animals  we  have  passed  growled  calmly  and  without  distrust; 
the  flight  of  the  birds  was  regular;  the  alligators  almost  disappeared  in  the 
mud  which  covered  them.  All  these  animals  scent  the  approach  of  man, 
and  especially  of  the  Indian,  for  a  considerable  distance,  and  so  soon  as  they 
have  done  so,  disappear  at  headlong  speed,  so  great  is  the  terror  with  which 
the  Lord  of  creation  inspi  es  them.  I  repeat  to  you,  we  are  alone  here, 
and  therefore  that  signal  is  intended  for  me.  See,  there  it  is  again  !" 
"  It  is  true  ;  I  can  see  it !" 

"  I  must  know  what  the  meaning  of  it  is,"  he  said,  seizing  his  rifle. 
"  Oh,  Don  Martial,  I  implore  you,  take  care !     Be  prudent.     Think  of 
me  !"  she  added  in  agony. 

"  Reassure  yourself,  Donna  Anita.  I  am  too  old  a  wood-ranger  to  lot  my- 
self be  deceived  by  a  clumsy  trick.  I  shall  return  shortly." 

And  without  listening  further  to  the  young  girl,  who  tried  to  retain  him 
by  her  entreaties  and  tears,  he  proceeded  to  the  slope  of  the  hill,  which  he 
descended  rapidly,  though  with  the  utmost  prudence.  On  arriving  in  the 
prairie  the  Tigrero  stopped  to  look  around  him.  The  party  were  encamped 
about  two  arrow-shots  from  the  Gila,  nearly  opposite  a  large  island,  which  is 
in  reality  only  a  rock,  bearing  some  resemblance  to  the  human  form,  and 
which  the  Apaches  call  the  Master  of  tho  Life  of  Man  In  their  excursions 
upon  Indian  territory  the  red-skins  never  fail  to  stop  at  this  island  and  de- 
posit their  offerings,  the  ceremony  consisting  in  throwing  into  the  water,  with 
dancing,  tobacco,  hair,  and  birds'  feathers.  This  rock,  which  offers  a  most 
striking  appearance  from  the  distance,  has  two  excavations  in  it  more  than 
120U  feet  in  length,  and  forty  wide,  the  roof  being  of  an  arched  form. 

The  fact  which  had  aroused  the  Tigrero's  curiosity,  and  caused  him  to  un- 
dertake the  enterprise  of  discovery  in  the  meaning  of  the  signal,  was  that  it 
came  from  the  island  ;  and  this  he  could  not  at  all  account  for,  being  aware 
that  the  Indians  felt  for  the  rock  a  veneration  mingled  with  a  superstitious 
terror  so  great,  that  no  Indian  warrior  however  brave  he  might  be,  would 
have  dared  to  spend  the  night  there.  It  was  the  knowledge  of  this  pecu- 
liarity which  ur^ed  him  to  examine  into  the  mystery. 

Tall  and  tufted  grass  grew  profusely  down  to  the  river's  edge.  Con- 
cealed by  the  thickly-growing  mangroves  and  shrubs,  int.  .'twined  in  inextri- 
cable confusion,  the  Tigrero  glided  cautiously  down  to  the  bank.  So  soon 
as  he  reached  it  he  let  himself  hang  from  a  branch,  and  entered  the  water  so 
quietly  that  his  immersion  produced  no  sound. 

Holding  his  rifle  over  his  head  to  keep  it   out  of  the  wet,  the  Tigrero  then    ' 
swam  with  one  hand  in  the  direction  of  the  island.     The  distance  was  short: 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  127 

the  Tigrero  was  a  vigorous  swimmer,  and  he  soon  reached  the  spot  where  ho 
wished  to  land.  So  soon  as  he  was  on  the  island  lie  crawled  through  the 
shrubs,  listening  to  the  slightest  sounds,  and  trying  to  pierce  the  darkness. 
ll<-  -u\v  nothing,  heard  nothing;  then  he  ro.-e,  and  walked  toward  one  of 
the  grottos,  at  the  entrance  of  which  he  could  see  a  lire  bla/ing  from  the 
spot  where  he  stood  :  near  it  was  si-ate  1  a  man,  smoking  as  quietly  as  if  he 
had  been  M-ated  before  a  pulqtieria  at  Guayma-". 

Don  Martial,  after  attentively  regarding  this  man,  had  difficulty  in  re- 
pres-ing  a  shout  of  joy,  and  walked  toward  him  without  firther  attempt  at 
concealment.  He  had  recognised  his  confidant,  Cuchares,  the  lepero.  At 
the  .sound  of  his  footfall  Cuchares  turned  his  head. 

"  You  have  come  at  last !''  he  exclaimed.  "  For  more  than  an  hour  I  have 
been  racking  my  brain  in  inventing  fresh  signs,  to  which  you  would  not 
deign  a  reply." 

"  Ah,  my  dear  fellow,"  the  Tigrero  joyfully  replied,  "  could  I  have  sus- 
pected it  was  you  1  should  have  been  with  you  long  ago  ;  but  I  so  little  ex- 
pected you " 

"  You  are  quite  right,  and  in  such  a  country  as  this  it  is  better  to  be  pru- 
dent than  not  sufficiently  so," 

"  Ah,  ah  !  there  is  something  new  ?"  the  Tigrero  said,  as  he  sat  down  to 
the  lire  to  dry  his  clothes. 

'•  Caspita  !  if  there  was  not,  should  I  be  here  ?" 

"  True :  you  are  a  good  comrade,  and  I  thank  you  for  coming.  You  know 
that  I  have  a  faithful  memory." 

"  I  know  it." 

"But  come,  what  have  you  to  tell  me  ?  lam  anxious  to  hear  all  the  news. 
But,  before  beginning,  one  question." 

-  Well  ?" 

"  Is  the  news  good  ?" 

vllent ;  you  shall  judge." 

"Carai !  as  it  U  so,  take  this  ring,  which  I  was  not  to  have  given  till  our 
little  affiir  w:-.s  settled.  But  do  not  be  frightened:  when  we  balance  our 
account  I  shall  find  something  to  please  you." 

The  lepero's  eye  glistened  with  joy  and  avarice;  he  seized  the  ring,  and 
sent  it  to  join  company  with  the  one  he  received  a  few  days  previously. 

"  Thanks  !"  he  said.  i:  Heaven  keep  me  !  there  is  a  pleasure  in  dealing 
with  you.  You  do  not  huckster,  at  any  rate." 

"Now  for  the  i 

-  Here  it  i.s  ;  short  and  good.     El  scnorconde,  rendered  der.p"rito  by  the 

I'-arance   of  his    betrothed,  whom    he   supposes  to    hav  •  cried 

off  1«;  )(•<.  has  quitted  the    har-.if.'id*  at   the  head  of  his    ••  .MPVIUV, 

and  is  now   crossing  the   desert   in  every  direction  in  pursuit  of  the   Black 

"  By  all  the  saints  !  that  in  tho  best  news  you  could  bring  me.  And  what 
do  you  intend  doing?" 

"  What !  did  we  not  agree  that  the  count " 

"Of  course,"  the  Tigrero  quickly  interrupted  him-  "but  to  do  that  you 
must  find  him,  and  that,  I  fancy,  is  not  so  easy  now." 

"  On  the  contrary." 

«  How  so  ?" 

"  Why,  Senor  Don  Martial,  do  you  wish  to  insult  mo  by  taking  mo  for  a 
goose?" 

"  By  no  weans,  gossip  :  still—*1 

"Still  you  believe  it.  Well,  you  are  mistaken,  caballero,  and  I  am  not 
sorry  to  tell  you  so.  During  the  very  few  hours  which  I  spent  at  the  ha- 
cienda I  made  inquiries,  and,  as  I  announced  myself  the  bearer  of  a  most 


128  THE    T.IGER-SLAYER. 

important  mission  for  the  count,  no  one  made  any  bones  about  answering  me. 
It  seeiiK  that  the  Acpachos,  instead  of  pushing  on,  were  so  thoroughly  beaten 
by  the  French  (for  whom,  by  the  way,  they  feel  an  enormous  respect),  that 
they  are  ret  irning  on  the  desert  del  Norte,  in  order  to  regain  their  villages. 
The  co  mt  is  p  irsuing  them,  is  he  not  ?" 

"  You  told  me  so." 

"  Well,  in  all  probability  he  will  not  dare  to  enter  the  desert." 

"  Naturally,"  the  Tigrero  said  with  a  shudder,  in  spite  of  his  tried  courage. 

"We!},  then,  he  can  only  stop  at  one  spot." 

"At  the  Casa  Grande  !"  Don  Martial  exclaimed  quickly. 

"  Q  lite  right  !     I  am  certain  of  finding  him  there." 

"  Body  of  me  !  go  there,  then." 

"  I  shall  set  out  immediately  after  }'our  departure." 

The  Tigrero  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"  You're  a  fine  fellow,  Cuchares,  on  my  soul  !"  he  said  presently.  "  I  am 
delighted  to  find  that  I  made  no  mistake  about  you." 

"  What  would  you  ?"  the  scamp  answered  modestly,  while  winking  his 
little  grey  eye.  ';  The  relations  into  which  I  entered  with  you  are  so  agree- 
able to  me,  that  I  can  refuse  you  nothing." 

The  two  men  began  laughing  at  this  sally,  which  might  have  been  in  bet- 
ter taste. 

"  Now  that  all  is  settled  between  us,"  Don  Martial  went  on,  "  let  us  part." 

'•  How  did  you  come  here  ?" 

"  Can't  you  see  ?     By  swimming  :  and  you  ?" 

"  On  my  horse.  I  would  offer  to  land  you  again,  but  we  are  going  in  op- 
posite directions." 

"  For  the  present,  yes." 

"  D.'i  yo'i  intend  to  cross  over  there  soon,  then  ?" 

C1  Probably,"  he  said  with  an  equivocal  smile. 

"  In  that  case- we  shall  soon  meet  again." 

"  I  hope  so.1' 

"Stay,  Don  Martial.  Now  that  your  clothes  are  dry,  I  sho'ild  not  like 
you  to  wet  them  again.  Let  us  go  and  see  if  there  be  not  a  canoe  about  : 
you  know  the  Indians  leave  them  everywhere." 

Tiie  Tigrero  entered  the  grotto,  and  fo.m.l  there  a  canoe,  with  ^ts  pad  .lies 
carefully  balanced  against  the  sides  :  he  unscrupulously  carried  it  o.it  on  iiU 
shoulders. 

"  By  the  way,"  he  said,  "  why  the  deuce  did  you  give  me  the  meeting 
here  ?" 

"  Not  to  be  disturbed.  Would  you  have  liked  any  one  to  overhear  our 
conversation  ?" 

"  I  allow  that.     Good  by,  then." 

"  Goo  1-by." 

The  men  separated — 0 shares  to  commence  along  journey,  and  Don  Mar- 
tial to  return  to  his  camping-ground.  B  it  they  were  mistaken  in  supposing 
that  no  one  had  overheard  their  conversation.  Tiiey  had  scarce  quilted  the. 
island  in  different  directions  ere,  from  a  thicket  of  dahlias  and  ii  >iv»!i  lios 
growing  at  the  entrance  of  the  grotto,  a  hideo;is  hea  1  was  thrist  o  .t.  cau- 
tiously, and  looked  around  ;  then,  at  the  end  of  a  moment,  the  bus!)  ta  \\  -re 
further  parted,  and  an  Apache  Indian,  painted  and  ar.ncd  for  war.  appeared. 
It  wa<  the  Black  Bear. 

u  Wall  !"  lie  muttered  with  a  menacing  gesture,  "  the  pale-faces  aro  dogs. 
The  Apache  warriors  will  follow  their  trail!" 

Then,  after  keeping  his  eyes  fixed  f. >r  a  fe\v  instants  on  the  star-spangled 
sky,  ho  entered  the  grotto. 

la  the  meanwhile  the  Tigrero  had  regained  the  enc.impment.     Donna  Ani- 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  129 

ta,  rendered  restless  by  so  long  an  absence,  was  awaiting  him  with  the  most 
lively  anxiety. 

••  Well  r  she  asked,  running  up  as  soun  as  she  saw  him. 

"  Good  news  ?''  he  answered. 

"  Oh,  1  was  so  frightened  !" 

'•  I  thank  you.     It  was  as  I  expected.     The  signal  was  intended  for  me." 

"The.,  rv 

"  I   found  a  friend,  who  gave  me  the   mean-  to  emit  the  !'  on  in 

which  we  are." 

-  In  what  way  ?" 

••  l)o  not  trouble  yourself  about  anything.  I  re|ieat.  but  leave  me  to  net." 

The  ;_'irl  bowed  submi.->-ively,  and,  in  spite  <»!'  tl.e  ruri  .-in  t!  at  deumred 
her.  retired  without  any  further  questioning  into  i  «  pre- 

pared  for   her.      Don   Martial,  instea  i  of  sleeping   sat    down   on  the  ground, 
folded  arms  on  his  chest,  leaned  against  a  tree,  and  remained  thus  moti- 
till  daybreak,  plunged  in  <leep  and  melancholy  thought.   At  sunrise  the1  Tigre- 
IX)  shook  off  the  ^ffecte  of  hlfl  night-watch  and  aroused   his  comrades.     Ten 
minutes  after  the  little  party  vta«*  on  it.->  way. 

"Oil,  oh  !"  the  haciendero  said,  ''you  arc  very  early  this  inoniiii'j/1 

"  Did  you  not  notice  that  we  did  not  even  breakfast  before  starting,  as  we 
usually  do  ?" 

-<M  course  I  did." 

-l>o  you  know  the  reason?  Because  we  shall  breakfast  at  Guetzalli, 
where  we  shall  arrive  in  two  hours  at  the  late-t." 

M  Ah,  caramba  !"  the  haciendero  exclaimed,  "you  delight  me  with  that 
. 

"  I  thought  I  should." 

Donna  Anita,  on  hearing  him  speak  thus,  had  looked  soirowfully  at  Don 
Martial  ;  but  seeing  his  face  >o  calm,  his  smile  so  frank,  she  felt  suddenly  re 
1,  and  -u-pected  that  his  silence  of  the  previous  night  intended  some 
plea-ant  surprise  for  her. 

As  Don  Martial  had  stated,  two  hours  later  they  reached  the  colony.      .\< 
soon  as  thev  were  perceived  by  the  sentinels  the  isthmus  drawhrM 
down,  and  they  entered  the  hacienda,  where  they  were  r.-eeivrd  with  all  |x»s- 
sible  polite,  n  -.      D  inna  Anita,  with  her  eyes  c,.n-tantly  lixed  on  ; 
ro.  blushed   and  tui'iied  pale,  undi-istaiiding    notliing  of  hi>  perfect  calu 
Tli'-y  (!i-niounted  in  the  second  courtyard  bcfo;  of  honor. 

"'\Yh.-ie    is   the   Count  de    LhoraiUes  the    ha«-i  •:: 

that  his   future   son-in-law  had  not  merely  nejrlected  to  come  to  meet  him, 
but  was  not  there  to  receive  him. 

'•My  master  will  feel  highly  annoyed,  when  he  hears  of  your  arrival,  at 
not  ha\  in-  been  present  to  welcome  you,"  replied  the  steward,  breaking  out 
into  profuse  apo!' 

*  U  he  ab>ent  ?" 


"But  he  will  soon  return  T 

"  I  hardly  think  so.  The  captain  started  in  pursuit  of  the  savages  at  the 
head  of  his  entire  company." 

This  news  was  a  thunderbolt  for  Don  Sylva;  bat  the  Tigrero  and  Donna 
Anita  exchanged  a  glance  of  delight. 


130  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 


CHAPTER    XX    . 

BOOT    AND    SADDLE! 

THE  great  desert  del  Norte  is  the  American  Sahara — more  extensive,  more 
to  be  feared,  than  the  African  Sahara;  for  it  contains  no  laughing  oases, 
sheltered  by  fine  trees,  and  refreshed  by  sparkling  fountains.  Beneath  a 
coppery  sky  extended  immense  plains,  covered  with  a  dirty-greyish  sand ; 
in  every  direction  horizons  succeded  horizons ;  sand  ever  sand,  tine  impalpa- 
ble sand,  bearing  a  closer  resemblance  with  human  dust,  which  the  wind  car- 
ries aloft  in  long  whirlwinds,  whose  desolating  aspect  varies  incessantly  at 
the  will  of  the  tempest,  which  hollows  out  valleys  and  throws  up  hills  each 
time  the  fearful  cordonazo  howls  across  this  desolate  soil. 

Greyish  rocks,  covered  with  patches  of  parched  lichen,  at  times  lift  up  their 
stunted  crests  in  the  midst  of  this  chaos,  which  has  not  changed  its  appear- 
ance since  the  creation.  The  buffalo,  the  ashata,  the  swift-footed  antelope, 
shun  this  desert,  where  their  feet  would  only  rest  on  a  shifting  soil;  flocks 
of  blear-eyed  and  ill-omened  vultures  alone  soar  over  these  regions  in  search 
of  extremely  rare  prey  for  the  desert  is  so  horrible  that  the  Indians  them- 
selves enter  on  it  with  a  tremor,  and  cross  it  with  express  speed  when  they 
return  to  their  villages  after  a  foray  on  the  Mexican  territory.  And  yet, 
however  rapid  their  journey  may  be,  their  passage  is  marked  in  an  indellible 
manner  by  the  skeletons  of  mules  and  horses  which  they  are  compelled  to 
abandon,  and  whose  bones  blanching  the  desert,  until  the  hurricane,  again 
unchained,  covers  all  with  a  cere-cloth  of  sand.  .  . 

Still,  as  the  hand  of  Deity  is  everywhere  visjble,  in  the  desert  more  pro- 
foundly than  elsewhere,  there  spring  up  at  long  intervals,  and  half  buried 
in  the  sand,  in  the  midst  of  piled-up  rocks,  vigorous  trees,  with  enormous 
trunks  and  immense  foliage,  which  seem  to  offer  the  traveller  rest  beneath 
their  shade.  But  these  trees  grow  few  and  far  between  on  the  plain,  and 
two  are  rarely  found  together  at  the  same  spot.  These  trees  revered  by  the 
Indians  and  wood-rangers,  are  the  imprint  of  Providence  on  the  desert,  the 
proof  of  His  solicitude  and  inexhaustible  goodness.  Bat  we  repeat  it,  with 
the  exception  of  these  few  landmarks,  lost  like  imperceptible  dots  in  the 
immensity,  there  are  neither  animals  nor  vegetables  on  the  Del  Norte : 
sand,  and  naught  but  sand. 

The  Casa  Grande  of  Moctecuzoma,  where  the  Count  de  Lhorailles'  free 
company  was  encamped,  rose,  and  probably  still  rises,  at  the  extreme  limit 
of  the  prairie,  at  not  more  than  two  leagues  from  the  skirt  of  the  desert. 
The  line  of  demarcation  was  clearly  and  coarsely  traced  between  the  two 
regions :  on  the  one  side  a  luxuriant  vegetation,  glowing  with  vigor  and  health; 
verdant  plains  covered  with  a  close,  tall  grass,  in  which  animals  of  every  de- 
scription browsed :  the  song  of  birds,  the  hiss  of  reptiles,  the  lowing  of  the 
buffaloes,  in  a  word,  grand,  vigorous,  and  ever-joyous  life,  exhaling  in  every 
pore  of  this  blessed  landscape. 

On  the  other  side,  the  silence  of  death:  a  grey  hoiizon ;  a  sea  of  sand, 
whose  agitated  waves  pressed  forward  on  every  side,  as  if  to  encroach 
on  the  prairie  ;  not  even  the  most  scanty  pasture — nothing — no  roots,  no 
moss,  naught  but  sand ! 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  131 

After  his  conversation  with  Cuchares  the  count  recalled  l:is  lieutenants, 
and  bewail  dnnkiu^  and  laughing  again  in  their  society.  They  rose-  from  the 
table  at  an  ad\anced  l.oiir  to  retire  to  sleep.  Cuchares,  ln'\\  cvi  r,  <lid  not 
sleep  he  was  t«xi  busily  engaged  in  thinking.  We  know  i>o\v,  or  nearly  so, 
with  what  purpose  he  joined  the  count  at  the  Casa  (Irande. 

At  sunri-e  the  bugles  sounded  the  revtille.  The  soldiers  rose  from  the 
ground  on  which  they  had  been  sleeping,  shook  off  the  night's  cold.  ;;nd  were 
busily  m.uaged  in  dres>ing  tlu«r  hoj-ses  and  preparations  for  the  morning's 
meal.  The  camp  soon  put  on  that  hurry  and  reckless  animation  so  character- 
istic of  Frenchmen  when  out  on  an  expedition. 

In  the  great  hall  of  the  Casa  (Irande  the  count  anoMiis  lieutenants,  seat- 
ed on  tl.e  dried  skulls  of  bi.tfulccs,  were  holding  a  council.  The  dis-cusnon 
was  animated. 

"In  an  hour,"  the  count  said,  "  we  shall  set  out.  We  have  twenty  mules 
laden  with  provisions,  ten  to  carry  water,  and  eight  for  ammunition.  We 
have,  therefore,  nothing  to  fear." 

"  That  is  true  to  a  certain  point,  senor  conde,"  the  capataz  observed. 

''Why  - 

'•  \Ve  have  qo  guides." 

"What  use  are  guides?"  the  count  said  passionately.  "I  fancy  we  need 
only  follow  the  Apache  trail. ' 

Bias  Va-ipicx  shook  his  head.- 

*  You  do  not  know  the  Del  Norte,  excellency,"  he  said  candidly. 

"This  is  the  lii-st  time  accident  has  brought  me  this  way." 

"  I  pray  <md  it  be  not  the  la>t." 

••  What  do  vou  mean  ?"  the  count  said  with  a  secret  shudder. 

"Senor  conde,  the  Del  Norte  is  not  a  desert,  but  a  gulf  of  .shifting  sands ; 
at  the  slightest  breath  of  air  in  these  desolate  regions  the  sand  rises,  whirls, 
-  wallows  up  men  and  horses,  leaving  not  a  trace;  ah  disappears  for 
'•'iried  beneath  a  cere-cloth  of  sand." 

'•  Oh,  oh  !"  the  count  said  thoughtfully. 

"  Believe  me,  senor  conde,"  t  he  capataz  continued.  "  Do  not  venture  with 
vour  bruve  soldiers  into  this  implacable  desert:  not  one  of  you  will  leave  it 

ill  the  Apaches  arc  men  too:  they  are  not  braver  or  better  mounted 
than  we,  1  may  say." 

"  Tbev  are  not." 

<;  Well,  they  cross  the  Del  Norte  from  north  to  south,  from  cast  to  wewt, 
nnd  that  not  once  a  yiar  or  ten  times,  but  continually,  whenc\er  tLe  fancy 
takes  them." 

"  But  do  you  know  at  what  price,  senor  conde  ?  Have  you  counted  tho 
corpses  they  leave  along  the  road  to  mark  their  passiu  '.  :,e.:i  you 

cannot  compart;  your.-chcs  with  the  Pagans:  the  desert  possc.»us  :io  secrets 
for  them.     They  know  its  furthest  mysteries." 

"  Then,"  the  count  exclaimed  impatiently,  "  your  impression  is " 

'•  That  in  bringing  you  here,  and  attacking  you  two  days  ago,  the  Apaches 
hid  a  trap  for  you.  Thov  wish  to  entice  you  after  them  into  the  desert; 
certain  not  merely  that  you  will  not  catch  them,  but  that  you  and  all  your 
men  will  leave  your  bones  there." 

"Still  you  agree  with  mr,  my  dear  Don  Bias,  that  it  is  very  extraordinary 
there  is  not  among  all  your  peons  one  capable  of  guiding  us  in  tl.is  desert. 
Hang  it,  they  are  .Mexicans  I" 

"  Yes  excellency,  but  I  have  more  than  once  had  the  honor  of  observing 
to  you  that  all  these  men  are  costenos,  or  inhabitants  of  the  seaboard.  They 
never  before  came  so  far  into  the  interior." 

"  What  shall  we  do,  then  ?'*  tho  count  asked  with  some  hesitation. 


132  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

"  Return  to  the  colony,"  the  capataz  replied.     "  I  see  no  other  means." 
"  Shall  we  abandon  Don  Sylva  and  his  daughter  ?" 

Bias  Vasquez  frowned.  He  replied  in  a  solemn  voice,  and  with"  much  em- 
otion,— 

"  Excellency,  I  was  born  on  the  estate  of  the  Torres  family.  No  one  is 
more  devoted,  body  and  soul,  than  I. am  to  the  persons  whose  names  you 
have  pronounced  ;  but  no  one  is  bound  to  attempt  impossibilities.  It  would 
be  tempting  God  to  enter  the  desert  in  our  present  state.  We  have  no  right 
to  calculate  on  a  miracle,  and  that  alone  could  bring  us  back  here  safe  and 
sound." 

There  was  a  moment's  silence.  These  words  produced  on  the  count's 
mind  an  impression  which  he  tried  in  vain  to  master.  The  lepero  guessed 
his  hesitation,  and  approached. 

"  Why,"  he  said  in  a  crafty  voice,  "  did  you  not  tell  me  that  you  needed  a 
guide,  senor  conde  ?" 

"  What  good  would  that  do  ?" 

"In  fact,  that  is  true ;  it  was  not  worth  the  trouble,  as  I  promised  to  con- 
duct you  to  Don  Sylva.     You  have  doubtlessly  forgotten  that  ?" 
"  You  know  the  road,  then  ?" 

"  Yes,  as  well  as  a  man  can  who  has  only  gone  along  it  twice." 
"  By  heavens  !"  the  count  exclaimed,  "  we  can  push  on  now  ;  nothing  need 
keep    us  longer.     Diego   Leon,  order    the  boot  and  saddle'  to  be  sounded, 
and  if  you  area  good  guide  you  shall  have  proofs  of  my  satisfaction." 

"  Oh,  you  can  trust  to  me,  excellency!"  the  lepero  answered  with  a  dubi- 
ous smile.     "  I  certify  you  will  reach  the  spot  whither  I  have  to  guide  you." 
"  I  ask  no  more." 

Bias  Vasquez,  with  that  instinctive  suspicion  innate  in  all  honest  minds 
when  they  come  across  wicked  persons,  felt  an  irresistible  repugnance  for  the 
lepero.     This  repugnance  had  displayed  itself  from  the  first  moment  of  Cu- 
chares'  appearance  in  the  hall  the  previous  evening.     While  he  was  talking 
to  the  count  he  therefore  examined  him  closely.     When  he  had  ended,  Bias 
made  a  sign  to  the  count,  who  came  up  with  him.      The  capataz  led  him  to 
a  distant  corner  of  the  room,  and  whispered  in  his  ear, — 
M  Take  care ;  that  man  is  deceiving  you." 
"You  know  it?" 
"  I  am  certain  of  it." 
'•Why  so?" 

"  Something  tells  me  so." 
"  Have  you  any  proofs  ?" 
"  None." 

"  You  must  be  mad,  Don  Bias,  fear  troubles  your  senses." 
"  God  grant  that  I  am  deceived  ?" 

"  Listen !  Nothing  forces  you  to  follow  us.  Remain  here  till  we  return : 
in  that  way,  whatever  may  happen,  you  will  escape  the  dangers  which  in 
your  idea  menace  us." 

The  capataz  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height. 

"Enough,  Don  Gaetano,"  he  said  coldly.  "In  warning  you  I  acted  as  my 
conscience  commanded.  You  will  not  attend  to  my  advice — you  need  not 
do  so;  1  have  done  my  duty  as  I  was  bound  to  do.  You  wisli  to  march  for- 
ward. I  will  follow  you,  and  hope  soon  to  prove  to  you  that  if  I  am  prudent, 
I  can  be  as  brave  as  any  man  when  it  is  necessary." 

"  Thanks  !"  the  count  answered,  affectionately  pressing  his  hand  :  "  I  felt 
.sure  that  you  would  not  abandon  me." 

At  this  moment  a  great  disturbance  was  heard  outside,  and  Lieutenant 
Diego  Leon  entered  precipitately. 

"  What  is  the  matter,  lieutenant?"  the  count  asked  sternly.  *  What  means 
this  startled  face  ?  Why  do  you  enter  in  this  way  ?" 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  133 

"  Captain,"  the  lieutenant  answered  in  a  panting  voice,  "  the  company  has 
revolted." 

"  Eh  ?     What  do  you  say,  sir  ?     My  troopers  have  revolted  ?" 

"  Yes,  captain." 

"  Ah  !''  ho  said,  biting  his  moustaches,  "and  why  have  they  revolted,  if 
yon  please  ?" 

"  Mecause  they  do  not  wish  to  enter  the  desert." 

'•They  do  not  wish  !"  the  count  continued,  Wv  ighing  every  word.  u  Are 
you  tare  «>f  what  you  say,  lieutenant  ?" 

"  I  swear  it,  captain  ;  but  listen." 

In  fart,  shouts  and  oaths,  an  ever-increasing  noise,  which  was  beginning  to 
assume  formidable  proportions,  were  heard  outside. 

"  Oh,  oh  !  this  is  becoming  seririus,  I  fancy,"  the  count  continued. 

"Much  more  than  you  suppose,  captain.  The  company,  I  repeat,  is  in 
complete  mutiny.  The  rebels  have  loaded  their  arms  :  they  surround  the 
house,  uttering  threats  against  you.  They  say  they  want  to  speak  to  you, 
and  that  they  are  sure  of  obtaining  what  they  want,  by  good  will  or  ill." 

4t-i  am  curious  to  see  that,"  the  count  said,  still  perfectly  calm,  as  he  walk- 
ed toward  the  door. 

u  Stay,  captain,"  the  officers  exclaimed,  as  they  rushed  before  him  ;  "  our 
men  arc  exasperated  ;  some  accident  may  happen  to  you." 

"  Nonsense,  gentlemen,"  he  replied  angrily,  repulsing  them  ;  "  you  are 
mad  :  they  do  not  know  me  well  enough  yet.  I  intend  to  show  these  ban- 
tlits  that  1  am  worthy  to  command  them." 

And  without  listening  to  any  entreaty,  he  slowly  walked  out  of  the  room 
with  a  ilrm  and  calm  step. 

What  had  happened  may  be  told  in  a  few  words.  Bias  Vasque/.'  peons, 
during  the  few  days  the  company  had  bivouacked  in  the  ruined  city,  told  the 
troops,  with  sufficient  exaggeration,  mournful  and  gloomy  stories  about  the 
desert,  giving  details  about  those  accursed  regions  which  would  have  made 
the  hair  stand  on  the  head  of  the  bravest.  Unfortunately,  as  we  have  said, 
the  company  was  encamped  hardly  two  leagues  from  the  entrance  of  the 
Del  Norte  :  the  gloomy  horizon  of  the  desert  added  its  frightful  reality  to 
the  terrible  tales  told  by  the  peons.  All  the  count's  soldiers  were  French 
Dauph'yeers,  principally  men  who  had  escaped  the  gallows,  brave,  but,  like 
all  Frenchmen,  easy  to  kal  backwards  and  forwards,  and  equally  resolute 
for  good  or  bad.  Since  they  had  been  under  the  command  of  the  Count  do 
L'loraiilcs,  although  he  had  behaved  with  considerable  bravery  in  action,  they 
only  obeyed  him  with  a  certain  degree  of  repugnance.  The  count  had  grave 
faults  in  their  eyes  ;  in  the  first  place,  that  of  being  a  count  ;  next  th  v 
considered  him  too  polite,  his  voice  was  too  soft,  his  manner  too  delicate  and 
effeminate.  They  could  not  imagine  that  this  gentleman,  so  well  clothed  and 
well  gloved.  wa>  capable  of  leading  them  to  great  things.  They  would  havo 
liked  as  a  chief  a  man  of  rude  speech  and  rough  manner,  with  whom  they 
co'ild  have  lived,  so  to  speak,  on  a  footing  of  equality. 

In  the  morning  rumour  had  spread  that  the  camp  was  about  to  be  raised, 
in  order  to  enter  the  desert  and  pursue  the  Apaches.  At  once  groups  wore 
formed — commentaries  commenced — the  men  gradually  grew  excited.  Re- 
sistance was  soon  organised,  and  when  the  liufenant  came  to  give  orders  to 
rai.^e  the  camp  he  was  greeted  with  laughter,  jc.>ts,  and  hisses  ;  in  short,  he 
was  compelled  to  give  ground  before  the  mutineers,  and  return  to  hi 
to  make  his  report. 

An  officer,  under  such  circumstances,  acts  very  wrongly  in  losing  hi.«  cool- 
ness, and  yielding  a  step  in  the  presence  of  revolt.  '  lie  ought  sooner  to  let 
himself  be  killed.  In  a  mutiny  one  concession  compels  another  ;  then  this 
inevitably  happens — the  ivbels  count  their  strength,  and  at  the  same  tim« 


134  THE    TIGER-SLAYER 

their  leaders'  :  they  recognise  the  immense  superiority  brute  strength  gives 
them,  and  immediately  abuse  the  position  which  the  weakness  or  sloth  of 
their  officers  has  given  them,  not  to  ask  a  simple  modification,  but  even  to 
claim  a  radical  change. 

This  happened  under  the  present  circumstances.  So  soon  as  the  lieutenant 
had  retired,  his  departure  was  at  once  regarded  in  the  light  of  a  triumph. 
The  soldiers  began  haranguing,  influenced  by  those  among  them  whose 
tongues  were  most  loosely  hung.  It  was  no  longer  a  question  about  not  en- 
tering the  desert,  but  of  appointing  other  officers,  and  returning  at  once  to 
the  colony.  The  entire  staff  must  be  changed,  and  the  leaders  chosen  from 
those  who  inspired  their  comrades  with  most  confidence — that  is  to  say,  tho 
most  dangerous  fellows. 

The  effervescence  had  reached  the  boiling  point :  the  soldiers  brandished 
their  weapons  furiously,  while  directing  the  most  furious  threats  at  the  cap- 
tain and  his  lieutenants.  Suddenly  the  door  opened,  and  the  count  appeared. 
He  was  pale,  but  calm.  He  took  a  quiet  look  at  the  mutinous  band  that 
howled  around  him. 

"  The  captain  !     Here  is  the  captain  !"  the  troopers  shouted. 

"  Kill  him  !"  others  went  on. 

"Down  with  him,  down  with  him  !"  they  howled  in  chorus. 

All  rushed  upon  him,  brandishing  weapons  and  offering  insults.  Bat  the 
count  did  not  give  way  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  advanced  a  step.  He. held  in 
his  mouth  a  fine  husk  cigarette,  from  which  he  puffed  the  smoke  with  the 
utmost  serenity. 

Nothing  imposes  on  masses  like  cold  and  unaffected  courage.  There  was 
a  pause  in  the  revolt.  The  captain  and  his  men  examined  each  other,  like 
two  tigers  measuring  their  strength  ere  bounding  forward.  The  count  pro- 
fited by  the  moment  of  silence  he  had  obtained  to  take  the  word. 

"  What  do  you  want  ?"  he  asked  calmly,  while  withdrawing  his  cigarette 
from  his  mouth,  and  following  the  light  cloud  of  bluish  smoke  as  it  spirals  in 
the  sky. 

At  this  question  of  their  captain's  the  charm  was  broken  ;  the  shouts  and 
yells  recommenced  with  even  greater  intensity  ;  the  rebels  were  angry  with 
themselves  for  having  allowed  their  chief's  firmness  momentarily  to  overawe 
them.  All  spoke  at  once.  They  surrounded  the  count  on  all  sides,  pulling 
him  in  every  direction,  to  force  him  to  listen  to  them.  The  count,  pressed 
and  hustled  by  all  these  rogues,  who  had  thrown  discipline  overboard,  and 
were  sure  of  impunity  in  a  country  where  justice  only  nominally  exists,  did 
not  lose  his  countenance — his  coolness  remained  the  same.  He  aliuwed 
these  men  to  yell  at  their  ease  for  some  moments,  their  eyes  bloodshot,  and 
foam  on  their  lips  ;  and  when  he  considered  this  had  lasted  long  enough,  he 
said,  in  a  voice  as  calm  and  tranquil  as  on  the  first  occasion  : — 

"  My  friends,  it  is  impossible  for  us  to  go  on  talking  in  this  way:  I  under- 
stand nothing  of  what  you  say.  Choose  one  of  your  comrades  to  make  your 
complaints  in  your  name.  If  they  are  just,  I  will  do  you  justice;  but  be 
calm."  c 

After  uttering  these  words  the  count  leaned  his  shoulder  against  the  door, 
crossed  his  arms  on  his  chest,  and  began  smoking  again,  apparently  indiffer- 
ent to  what  was  going  on  around  him.  The  calmness  and  firmness  display- 
ed by  the  count  from  the  beginning  of  this  scene  had  already  borne  their 
fruit:  he  had  regained  numerous  partisans  among  his  soldiers.  These  men, 
though  they  dared  not  yet  openly  avow  the  sympathy  they  felt  with  their 
chief,  warmly  supported  the  proposition  he  had  made  them. 

"  The  captain  is  right,"  they  said.  "  It  is  impossible,  if  we  continue  to 
badger  him  in  this  way,  that  he  can  understand  our  arguments." 

"We  must  be  just  too,"  others  took  up  the  ball.  "How  can  you  expect 
the  captain  to  do  justice  unless  we  clearly  explain  to  him  what  we  want  ?" 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  135 

The  revolt  had  made  an  immense  backward  step.  It  no  longer  spoke  of 
deposing  its  chiefs  ;  it  limited  itself  to  asking  justice  of  the  captain.  Hence 
it  still  tacitly  recognised  him. 

At  length,  after  numberless  discussions  among  the  mutineers,  one  of  their 
number  \\  i  to  take  the  word  in  the  name  of  the  rest.  He  was  a 

short,  s(ji:aiv-slu)iildered  fellow,  with  cunning  face,  and  little  eyes  sparkling, 
with  whom  everything  i>  comprised  in  robbery  and  assassination.  This  man, 
who- •  c-irtius,  was  a  Parisian,  and  hailed  from  the  Fau- 

boui  M  irceau.     An  ex-soldier,  an    ex-sailor,   he    had  been  at  everjr 

trade,  except,  perhaps,  that  of  an  honest  man.  Since  his  arrival  in  the  col- 
ony lie  had  been  remarkable  for  his  spirit  of  insubordination,  brutality,  and, 
above  all,  liis  bounce.  He  boasted  of  u  owing  eight  dead  ;"  that  is  to  say, 
in  the  language  of  the  country,  having  committed  eight  murder- .  He  in- 
spired his  comrades  with  an  instinctive  terror.  When  he  was  selected  to 
take  word  he  rammed  his  hat  down  on  the  side  of  his  Head,  and  addressing 
his  comrades,  said  : — 

"  You  shall  see  how  Til  walk  into  him." 

And  he    advanced,  insolently  swaying  from  side  to  side,  toward   the  cap- 
tain, who  watched  his  approach  with  a  smile  of  peculiar  meaning.     Sudden- 
ly a  great  silence  fell  on  the  crowd  ;  hearts  beat  powerfully,  faces  grew  anx- 
ious ;  each  guessed  instinctively  that  something  decisive  and  extraordinary 
-nit  to  happen. 

When  Cm-tins  was  only  two  paces  from  his  captain  he  stopped,  and,  sur- 
veying him  insolently,  said  : — 

"  Come,  captain,  the  business  is  this:  my  com ' 

But  the  count  pave  him  no  time  to  finish.  Quickly  drawing  a  pistol  from 
his  girdle,  he  pressed  it  again>t  i  is  temples  and  blew  out  his  brains.  The 
ban-lit  rolled  in  the  dust  with  a  fractured  skull.  The  captain  returned  the 
pisiol  to  his  sash,  and  coolly  r.ii-ing  his  head,  said  in  a  firm  voice: — 

••  1 1. is  any  one  further  observations  to  make  ?" 

No  one  stirred  :  the  bandit*  had  suddenly  became  lambs.  They  stood  si- 
lent and  penitent  before  their  chief,  for  they  understood  him.  The  count 
smiled  contemptuously. 

"I'ick  ii}  this  carrion,"  he  said,  spurning  the  corpse  with  his  foot.  "We 
an-  h.iiin'.  '  woe  to  the  man  who  does  not  carry  out  the  clauses  of 

our  agreement  :  I  will  kill  him  like  a  dog.  Let  this  scoundrel  be  hanged  by 
the  feet,  that  his  unclean  carcase  may  become  the  prey  of  the  vultures.  In 
ten  minutes  the  boot  and  saddle  will  sound  :  let  him  kike  heed  who  is  not 
ready." 

Alter  this  thundering  speech  the  count  ;  i  the  house  with  as  firm  a 

step  as  he  had  left.     The  revolt  was  quelled — the  wild  beasts  had  ! 
the  iron  -rip  beneath  the  velvet  glove  ;  they  were  tamed  forever,  and  1.. 
forth  would  let  themselves  be  killed  without  uttering  a  murmur. 

"  'Tis  no  matter,"  the  soldiers  said  to  each  other.  4i  he  is  a  rude  fellow  for 
all  what  h--  ;iy  cold  in  his  < 

And  then  each  eagerly  made  his  preparation's  for  departure.      Ten  minutes 
later,  as  the  captain  had  announced,  he  re-appeared  ;  the  troop  was  on  1. 
back,  ranged  in  order  of  battle,  and  ready  to  bet  out.     The  count  smiled,  and 
gave  the  word  to  set  out. 

"  Humph  '"  Cm-hares  muttered  to  himself,  "  what  a  pity  that  Don  Martial 
has  such  fine  diamonds  !  After  what  1  have  seen  I  Could  have  broken  my 
word  with  pleasure." 

Before  long  the  free  company,  with  the  captain  at  its  head,  disappeared  in 
the  Del  Norte. 


136  THE    TIGER- SLAYER. 

CHAPTER    XXI. 

THE    CONFESSION. 

THE  haciondero  and  his  daughter  left  the  colony  of  Guetzalli  under  the  es- 
cort of  Don  Martial  and  the  four  peons  he  had  taken  into  his  service.  Tho 
little  band  advanced  to  the  west,  in  the  direction  of  which  the  free  company 
had  marched  in  pursuit  of  the  Apaches.  Don  Sylva  was  the  more  anxious 
to  come  up  to  the  French  because  he  knew  that  their  expedition  had  no  other 
purpose  than  to  deliver  him  and  his  daughter  from  the  hands  of  the  savages. 

The  journey  was  gloomy  and  silent.  As  the  travellers  approached  the 
desert  the  scenery  assumed  a  sombre  grandeur  peculiar  to  primitive  countries, 
which  exercised  an  unconscious  influence  over  the  mind,  and  plunged  them 
into  a  melancholy  which  they  were  powerless  to  overcome. 

No  more  huts,  no  more  cabins,  no  more  travellers  found  by  the  roadside, 
offering  an  affectionate  wish  for  your  safe  arrival  as  you  pass,  but  a  path  the 
reverse  of  level,  impenetrable  forests  peopled  with  wild  beasts,  whose  eyes 
glared  like  live  coals  amid  the  wildly-interlaced  creepers,  shrubs  and  tall 
grass.  At  times  the  trail  of  the  Frenchmen  might  be  seen  on  the  soil,  trod- 
den by  a  large  number  of  horses  ;  but  suddenly  the  country  changed  its 
character,  and  every  trace  disappeared. 

Ea?h  evening  af:er  the  Ti^iM  hal  beaten  the  vicinity  to  drive  back  tho 
wild  beasts,  the  camp  was  formed  by  the  bank  of  a  stream,  the  tires  lighted, 
and  a  hut  of  branches  hastily  constructed  to  protect  Donna  Anita  from  the 
night  cold  ;  then,  after  a  scanty  meal,  they  wrapped  themselves  up  in  their 
fressadas  and  zarapes.  and  slept  till  daybreak.  The  only  incidents  which  at 
times  disturbed  the  monotony  of  their  life  were  the  discovery  of  an  elk  or 
deer,  in  pursuit  of  which  Don  Martial  and  his  peons  galloped  at  full  speed, 
and  it  often  took  hours  ere  the  poor  brute  was  headed  and  killed. 

B*ut  there  were  none  of  those  pleasant  chats  and  confidences  which  make 
time  appear  less  tedious,  and  render  the  fatigues  of  an  interminable  road  en- 
durable. The  travellers  maintained  a  reserve  toward  each  other,  which  not 
only  kept  all  intimacy  aloof,  but  also  any  confidence.  Ttiey  only  spoke  when 
circumstances  rendered  it  compulsory,  and  then  only  exchanged  words  that 
were  indispensable.  The  reason  of  this  was  that  two  of  the  travellers  had  a 
secret  unknown  to  the  third,  which  weighed  upon  them,  and  at  which  they 
blushed  inwardly. 

Man,  with  his  necessarily  incomplete  nature,  is  neither  entirely  good  nor 
entirely  bad.  Most  frequently,  after  committing  actions  under  the  iron  pres- 
sure of  passion  or  personal  interest,  when  his  coolness  has  returned,  and  ho 
measures  the  depth  of  the  abyss  in  which  he  has  precipitated  himself,  he  re- 
grets them,  especially  if  his  life,  though  not  exemplary,  has  at  least  hitherto 
been  exempt  from  deeds  which  are  offensive  to  morality.  Such  was  at  this 
moment  the  situation  of  Don  Martial  and  Donna  Anita.  Both  had  been  led 
by  their  mutual  love  to  commit  a  fault  they  bitterly  repented  ;  for  we  will 
state  here,  to  prevent  our  readers  forming  an  erroneous  estimate  of  their 
character,  that  their  hearts  were  honest,  an.l  when,  in  a  moment  of  madness, 
they  arranged  and  carried  out  their  flight,  they  were  far  from  foreseeing  the 
fatal  consequences  which  this  hopeless  step  would  entail. 

Don  Martial,  especially  after  the  orders  he  had  given  Cuchares,  and  tho 
haciendero'sj  unshaken  determination  of  rejoining  the  Count  de  Liioraiiles, 
clearly  comprehended  that  his  position  was  growing  with  each  moment  more 
difficult,  and  that  he  was  proceeding  along  a  path  that  had  no  outlet.  Thus 
the  two  lovers,  fatally  attached  by  the  secret  of  their  flight,  still  kept  hid- 
den from  each  other  the  remorse  that  devoured  them ;  they  felt  at  each  step 
that  the  ground  on  which  they  walked  was  undermined,  and  that  it  might 
suddenly  give  way  beneath  their  feet. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  137 

In  such  a  situation  life  became  intolerable,  as  there  was  no  longer  a  com- 
munity of  thought  or  feeling  between  the.se  three  pel-sons.  A  collision  be- 
tween them  was  imminent,  though  it  happened, perhaps,  sooner  than  they 
anticipated,  through  the  pressure  of  the  circumstances,  in  which  they  were 
entangled.  After  a  journey  of  about  a  fortnight,  during  which  no  note- 
worthy incident  occurred,  Don  Martial  and  his  companion*,  guided  partly  by 
the  information  they  had  picked  up  at  the  hacienda,  and  partly  by  the  trail 
left  by  the  persons  they  were  following,  at  length  reached  the  ruins  of  tho 
Casa  Grande  of  Moctecuzoma.  It  was  about  ail  in  the  evening  \vlun  the 
little  party  entered  the  ruins  :  the  sun,  already  below  the  Iiorixun.  only  illu- 
mined the  earth  with  those  changing  beams  which  glisten  fora  long'while 
alter  the  planet-king  lias  disappeared.  Marching  a  short  distance  from  each 
other,  Don  Sylvaand  Don  Martial  looked  searchingly  around,  advancing  cau- 
tiously, and  with  finger  on  the  rifle  trigger,  through  this  inextricable  ma/e, 
BO  favourable  for  an  Indian  ambuscade.  The^  at  length  reached  tin-  Ca>a, 
Grande,  and  nothing  extraordinary  had  met  their  sight.  Night  had  almost 
set  iu,  and  objects  began  to  grow  confused  in  the  shadows.  Don  Martial, 
who  was  preimring  to  dismount,  suddenly  stopped,  uttering  a  cry  of  astonish- 
ment, almost  of  terror. 

"  What  is  it?"     Don  Sylva  asked  quickly  as  he  walked  up  to  the  Tigrero. 

"  Look !"  the  latter  said,  stretching  out  his  arm  in  the  direction  of  a  clump 
of  stunted  trees  which  stood  a  short  distance  from  the  entrance.  The  hu- 
man voice  exerts  a  strange  faculty  over  animals — that  of  inspiring  them 
with  insurmountable  fear  and  respect.  To  the  few  words  exchanged  by  tho 
two  men  hoarse  and  confused  cries  responded,  and  seven  or  eight  savage  vul- 
tures rose  from  the  centre  of  the  clump,  and  began  Hying  hedvily  over  tho 
travellers'  heads,  forming  wide  circles  in  the  air,  and  continuing  tlieir 
infernal  music. 

"  1  can  see  nothing,"  Don  Sylva  went  on  ;  "it  is  as  black  as  in  an  oven." 

"That  is  true:  still,  if  you  look  more  carefully  at  the  object  1  point  out 
you  will  easily  recognise  it." 

"Without  any  reply  the  haciendero  pushed  on  his  horse. 

"  A  man  hung  by  the  feet!"  he  uttered,  stopping  his  horse  with  a  gesture 
of  horror  and  disgust.  "  What  can  have  happened  here  ?" 

"  Who  can  say  ?  It  is  not  a  savage — his  color  and  dress  do  not  allow  tho 
least  doubt  on  that  point ;  still  he  has  his  scalp,  so  the  Apaches  did  not  kill 
him.  What  is  the  meaning  of  it  V 

"  A  mutiny  perhaps,"  the  hac'wndero  hazarded. 

Don  Martial  became  pensive ;  his  eyebr.nvs  contracted.  «» It  is  not  pos- 
sible," he  said  to  himself;  but  a  moment  after  added,  "  Let  i:>  niter  the 
house;  we  must  not  leave  Donna  Anita  any  longer  alone.  Our  absence 
must  surprise  her  and  might  alarm  her  if  prolonged.  When  the  encamp- 
ment i.s  arranged  I  will  go  and  look,  and  I  shall  be  very  unlucky  if  I  -!o  not 
discover  the  clue  to  this  ill-omened  mystery.'' 

The  two  men  retired  and  rejoined  Donna  Anita,  who  was  awaiting  them 
a  few  pace*  oil',  under  the  guard  of  the  peons.  \Vhen  the  travellers  had 
dismounted  and  cros-ed  the  threshold  of  the  casa,  Don  Martini  lighted 
several  torches  of  ocote  wood  to  find  their  way  in  the  darkix-s-.  ;,nd  guided 
his  companions  to  the  large  hall  to  which  we  ha\e  already •  inln  tluccd  our 
readers.  lc  wits  not  the  fust  time  Don  Martial  had  ritdted  the  ruins:  fre- 
quently, during  his  long  hunting  expeditions  in  the  western  prairies,  they  had 
oileivd  him  a  refuge.  Thus  he  knew  their  most  hidden  nooks. 

It  was  he,  too,  who  had  urged  his  companions  to  pnx-eed  to  the  Casa 
Grande,  for  he  was  convinced  that  the  count  could  only  find  there  a  safe 
and  sure  bivouac  for  his  tnx>p.  The  hall,  in  which  a  table  stood,  presented 
unmistakable  signs  of  the  recent  primage  of  several  persons,  and  a  tolerably 
prolonged  stay  they  had  made  at  the  spot. 


138  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

<£  You  see,"  be  said  to  the  kaciendero,  "  that  I  was  not  mistaken  ;  the  per- 
sons we  seek  stopped  here." 

"  It  is  true.     Do  you  think  they  have  long  left  it  '?" 
"I  camion  tell  you  yet;  but  while  supper  is  being  prepared,  and   you  are 
making  yourselves  comfortable,  I  will  take  a  look  round  outside.     On  my  re- 
turn I  trust  to  bs  more  fortunate,  and  be  able  to  satisfy  your  curiosity." 

And  placing  the  torch  he  held  in  his  hand  in  an  iron  bracket  fastened  to 
the  wall,  the  Tigrero  quitted  the  house.  Donna  Anita  fell  pensively  back  on 
a  species  of  clumsy  sofa,  accidentally  left  by  the  side  of  tiie  table.  Aided 
by  the  peons,  the  haciendero  began  making  preparations  for  the  night.  The 
horses  were  unsaddled,  driven  into  a  species  of  enclosure,  and  had  an  ample 
stock  of  alfalfa  placed  before  them.  The  trunks  were  unloaded,  the  bales 
carried  into  the  hall,  where  they  were  piled  up,  after  one  had  been  opened 
to  take  out  the  requisite  provisions;  and  then  an  enormous  brazier  was  kin- 
dled, over  which  a  quarter  of  dear  mj.it  was  h  ung. 

When  these  various  preparations  were  ended  the  haciendero  sat  down  on 
a  buffalo's  skull,  lighted  a  husk  cigarette,  and  began  smoking,  while  every 
now  and  then  turning  a  sad  glance  on  his  daughter,  who  was  still  plunged 
in  melancholy  thought.  .  Don  Martial's  absence  was  rather  long,  for  it  lasted 
two  hours.  An  the  end  of  that  time  his  horse's  hoofs  could  be  heard  echo- 
ing on  the  stone  flooring  of  the  ruins,  and  he  reappeared. 
«  Well  ?"  Don  Sylva  asked  him. 

"  Let  us  sup  first,"  the  Tigrero  answered,  pointing  to  the  girl  in  a  way  her 
father  comprehended. 

The  meal  was  short,  as  might  be  expected  from  persons  pre-occupied  and 
wearied  with  a  long  day's  march.  Indeed,  with  the  exception  of  the  roast 
venison,  it  only  consisted  of  cainc,  maize  tortillas,  and  frijoiescon  aji.  Don- 
na Anit  i  ate  a  few  spoonsful  of  tamarind  preserve ;  then,  after  bowing  to 
her  friends,  she  rose  and  walked  into  a  small  room  adjoining  the  hail,  where 
a  bed  had  been  made  up  for  her  with  her  father's  wraps,  and  the  entrance 
to  which  was  closed  by  hanging  up,  in  place  of  the  absent  door,  a  horse 
blanket  attached  to  nails  driven  in  the  wall. 

"  YO.J  fellows,"  the  Tigrero  said,  addressing  the  peons,  "had  better  keep 
good  watch,  if  you  wish  to  save  your  scalps.  I  warn  you  that  we  are  in  an 
enemy's  country,  and  if  you  go  to  sleep  you  will  probably  pay  dearly  for 
it." 

The  peons  assured  the  Tigrero  that  they  would  redouble  their  vigilance, 
and  went  out  to  execute  the  orders  they  had  received.  The  two  men  re- 
mained seated  opposite  each  other. 

"  Well,"  Don  Sylva  began,  again  asking  his  companion  the  question  he 
had  already  began,  "  have  you  learned  anything  ?" 

"  All  that  was  possible  to  learn,  Don  Sylva,  "  the  Tigrero  sharply  replied. 
"  Were  it  otherwise  I  should  be  a  scurvy  huater,  and  the  jaguars  and  tigers 
would  have  had  the  best  of  me  long  ago." 

"  Is  the  information  you  have  obtained  favorable." 

"  That  depends  on  your  'future  plans.  The  Fr  nch  have  been  here,  and 
bivouacked  for  several  days.  During  their  stay  in  the  ruins  they  were  vig- 
orously attacked  by  the  Apaches,  whom,  however,  they  succeded  in  repul- 
sing. .'Now  it  is  probable,  though  I  cannot  assert  it,  that  the  troopers  re- 
volted f  >r  some  cause  of  which  I  am  ignorant,  and  that  the  poor  wretch  wo 
saw  hanging  to  the  tree  like  rotten  fruit  paid  for  the  rest,  a^  generally  hap- 
pens." 

k;  f  thank  you  for  your  information,  which  proves  to  me  that  we  are  not 
mistaken,  but  follow  the  right  trail.  Now,  can  you  complete  your  infor- 
mation by  telling  me  if  the  French  have  long  left  the  ruins,  and  in  what  di- 
rection they  have  marched  ?" 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  139 

"  Those  questions  are  very  easy  to  answi T.  The  free  company  left  their 
bivouac  yesterday,  a  few  moment-,  after  sunrise,  au  1  entered  the  d- 

"The  desert  !;>  the  haciendero  exclaimed,  letting  his  arms  sink  in  despond- 
ency. 

There  was  a  .silence  of  some  moments,  during  which  both  men  reflected. 
At  length  Don  Sylva  took  the  word. 

"  It  is  impossible,"  he  said. 

"But  it  l>  an  extraordinary  act  of  imprudence, almost  of  madness." 

k<  I  do  not  deny  it." 

"Oh,  the  unhappy  men  !" 

"They  are  lost  !" 

"The  (act  is,  that  if  they  escape,  Heaven  will  perform  a  miracle  in  their 
favour/' 

"I  think  with  you  ;  but  it  is  now  an  accomplished  fact,  which  no  ivcrimi- 
nation^  «('  ours  can  alter  ;  so,  Don  Sylva,  I  believe  that  the  wisest  thing  is 
to  trouble  ourselves  no  more  about  them,  but  let  them  get  out  of  it  as  they 
be-t  can." 

••  Is  that  your  notion?" 

'•  It  is,"  the   Tigrero  replied  carelessly.     "  I  prepare  to  remain  here  two  or 
three  days,  and  see  if  anything  turns  up.     Alter  that  time,  if  we    have  | 
or  heard  nothing,  we  will  remount,  and  return    to  Guetzalli    by  the    road  we 
came,  \\  ii!,n,.t  stopping  to  look  back,  that  we  may  arrive  more  speedily,  and 
the  sooner  quit  these  horrible  regions." 

The  hacieudero  shook  his  head  like  a  man  who  has  just  formed  an  irrevo- 
cable determination. 

"Then  you  will  go  alone,  Don  Martial,"  he  said  dryly. 

-  What  !"  the  latter  exclaimed,  looking  him  firmly  in  the  face.  "  Wlxit  is 
your  meaning  ?" 

••  I  mean  i  hat  I  shall  not  turn  back  on  the  path  I  have  hitherto  followed  ; 
in  a  word,  that  I  will  not  fly." 

1>"U  Martial  was  confounded  by  this  answer. 

"What  do  you  intend  doing,  then  ?" 

"  Can  you  guess  that  ?  Why  did  we  come  to  this  place  ?  For  what  pur- 
pose have  we  been  travelling  so  long  ?" 

"Excuse  me,  Don   Sylva,  but   the  question   is  now  changed.     You  will  do 
me  the  justice  to  allow  that  I  have  followed  you  without  any  ubservati»: 
that  I  have  been  a  faithful  guide  to  you  during  this  journey." 

"  I  do  so  indeed.     Now  explain  to  me  y  our  notion." 

••It  i>  thift,  I'". i  Sylva.     So  long  as  we  only  wandered  about  the  prairies,a^|e<» 
the  risk,   of  being    devoured  by  wild    beasts,  I  Lowed   my  head,  wit 
tempting  to  oppose  your  designs,  for  I  tacitly  recognised  that  you  \\ere  I 
a-  you  were  bound  '  .en  now,  were  you    and  1    alone,  I  would    b 

without  a  murmur  before    the  firm   determination  that    animates  \  on.     V-tively 
reflect  that  you  have  your  daughter  with  you — that  you  condemn  her  to  Of  our 
dergo  nameless  tortures  in  this  fearful  desert,  where    you  force  her   to  foil 
you,  and  which  will  probably  swallow  up  both."  .s  f],0 

Don  Sylva  made  no  reply,  so  the  Tigrero  continued  : —  I)S  Of 

"  Our  party  i>  weak.     We   have  provisions  for  only  a    f 

know,  once  in  the  Del  Nortc,  we  find  no  more  water  or  game.  If,  duLwnere 
our  excursion,  we  are  assailed  by  a  temporal,  we  are  lost— lost,  without  wildl  y 
source-,  without  hope  !"  world 

"  All  that  you  tell  me  is  correct,  I   am  well  aware  ;  still,  I    cannot  fol. 
your   advice.     Listen   to   me  in  your   turn,  Don    Martial.     The    Count  )ck  of 
Lhorailles  is  my  friend  ;  he  will  soon  be  my  son-in-law.     1  do  not  say  this  ie  icy 
vex  you,  but  only  that  you  may  thoroughly  understand  my  position  with  r»rode 


140  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

gard  to  him.  It  was  for  my  sake,  to  save  rne  from  those  whom  he  supposed 
to  have  carried  me  off,  that,  without  calculation,  and  solely  urged  by  his  no- 
-ble  heart,  he  entered  the  desert.  Can  I  allow  him  'o  perish  without  trying 
to  bring  him  succour  ?  Is  he  not  a  stranger  to  Mexico — our  guest,  in  a 
word  ?  It  is  my  duty  to  save  him,  and  I  will  attempt  it,  whatever  may 
happen." 

"Since  matters  are  so,  Don  Sylva,  I  will  no  longer  try  to  combat  a  resolu- 
tion so  firmly  made.  I  will  not  tell  you  that  the  man  to  whom  3Tou  give 
your  daughter  is  an  adventurer,  driven  from  his  country  through  his  ill-con- 
duct, and  who,  in  the  marriage  he  seeks  to  contract,  sees  only  one  thing — the 
immense  fortune  you  possess.  All  these  things,  and  many  others,  I  could 
supply  you  with  proofs  of;  but  you  would  not  believe  me,  for  you  would 
only  read  rivalry  in  rny  conduct  ;  so  let  us  say  no  more  on  that  head.  You 
wish  to  enter  the  desert  :  I  will  follow  you.  Whatever  may  happen,  you 
will  find  me  at  your  side  ready  to  defend  and  aid  you.  But  as  the  hour  for 
frank  explanations  has  arrived,  I  do  not  wish  any  cloud  to  r  main  between 
us — that  you  should  thoroughly  know  the  man  with  whom  you  are  going  to 
attempt  the  desperate  stroke  you  meditate,  so  that  you  may  have  a  full  and 
entire  confidence  in  him." 

The  haciendero  gazed  at  him  with  surprise.  At  this  moment  the  curtain 
of  Donna  Anita's  room  was  raised  ;  the  young  girl  came  out,  walked  slowly 
down  the  hall,  knelt  before  her  father,  and  turning  to  the  Tigrero  : — 

"  Now  speak,  Don  Martial,"  she  said.  "  Perhaps  my  father  will  pardon  me 
on  seeing  me  thus  implore  his  forgiveness." 

"Pardon  you  !"  the  haciendero  said,  his  eyes  wandering  from  his  daughter 
to  the  man  who  was  standing  before  him  with  blushing  brow  and  downcast 
eyes.  "  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?  What  fault  have  you  committed  ?" 

"A  fault  for  which  I  am  alone  culpable,  Don  Sylva,  and  for  which  I  alone 
must  suffer  the  punishment.  I  deceived  you  disgracefully :  it' was  I  who  car- 
ried off  your  daughter." 

"  What  !"  the  haciendero  shouted  with  an  outburst  of  fury.  "  I  was  your 
plaything,  your  dupe,  then  ?" 

"  Passion  does  not  reason.  I  will  only  say  one  word  in  my  defence  :  I 
love  your  daughter  !  Alas  !  Don  Sylva,  t  no\v  perceive  ho\v  culpable  [  have 
been.  Reflection,  though  tardy,  has  at  length  arrrived,  and,  like  Donna  Ani- 
ta, who  is  weeping  at  your  feet,  I  humble  myself  before  you,  and  say,  '  Par- 
don rne  !'  " 

"  Pardon,  father  !"  the  poor  girl  said  in  a  weak  voice. 
The  haciendero  made  a  gesture. 

jja   "  Oli  !"  the  Tigrero  said  quickly,  "  be  generous,  Don  Sylva.     Do  not  spurn 
is.     Our  repentance  is  true  and  sincere.     I  am  eager  to  repair   the    evil  I 
ic  "\\ive  done.    I  \vas  mad  then  :  passion  blinded  rne.     Do  not  overwhelm  me." 
wou"  Father,"   Donna  Anita  continued  in  a   tearful  voice, '' I  love  him.      Still, 
u  r.en  we  left  the  colony,  we  might   have  fled,  and   abandoned  you  ;  but  we 
<c  1  not  do  it.     The  idea  never  once  occurred  to  us.     We  were  ashamed  of 
bjv(*r  fault.     Yo'.i  see  us  both  here  ready  to  obey  you,  and  perform  without  a 
oromrinur  the  orders  it  ma}r  please  you  to  give  us.     Be  not  inflexible,  Omy 
another,  but  pardon  us  !" 
vo|tThe  haciendero  drew  himself  up. 

saw"  You  see,"  he  said  severely,  "  I  can  no  longer  hesitate.     I  must  save  the 
pe^unt  do  Lhor.iille.s  at  all  hazards,  else  I  should  be  your  accomplice." 

u  The  Tigrero  walked  in  great  agitation  up  and  down  the  hall :  his  eyebrows 
mfeere  contracted — his  face  deadly  pale. 

mj?  "Yes,"  he  said  in  a  broken  voice.  "  yes,  he  must  be  saved.     No  matter 
re,vhat becomes  of  me  after.     No  cowardly  weakness  !     I  have   committed  a 
fault,  and  will  undergo  all  the  consequences." 


THE   TIGER-SLAYER.  141 

"  Aid  mo  frankly  aii'l  loyally  in  my  search,  and  I  will  pardon  you,"  Don 
Sylvu  said  gravely.  "  My  honor  is  compromised  by  your  fault.  I  place  it  in 
your  hands." 

••  Thank^  Don  Sylva  ;  yon  will  have  no  cause  to  repent,"  the  Tigrero  no- 
bly ivplied. 

The  haeiendero  gently  raised  his  daughter,  drew  her  to  his  breast,  and  em- 
br;i<v<i  lu-r  .-evual  limes. 

•iy  poor  child  !''  he  said  to  her,  "  I  forgive  you.  Alas!  who  knows 
whether  in  a  fe\v  days  I  shall  not  have  in  turn  to  ask  your  forgivencxs  for  all 
the  smTerings  I  have  inflicted  on  you  ?  Go  and  r^'st  ;  the  night  is  drawing 
on— yon  must  have  need  of  repose." 

"  Oh,  limv  kind  yon  arc  and  how  I  love  yon,  father  !"  she  cried  from  her 
heart,  '•  Fear  nothing.  Whatever  sufferings  the  future1  may  have  in  store 
for  me,  I  will  endure  them  without  a  murmur.  Xo\v  I  am  nappy,  for  you 
have  pardoned  me." 

!>'>.i  Martial's  eye  followed  the  maideu. 

"  When  do  you  intend  starting  T  no  said,  stifling  a  sigh, 
morrow,  if  possible." 

1   !)••  it.  s  i.     Let  us  trust  in  Heaven." 

After  converging  for  some  short  time  longer,  and  making  their  final  ar- 
rangements, Don  Sylva  wrapped  himself  up  in  his  coverings,  and  soon. fell 
asleep.  As  for  the  Tigrero,  he  left  tlie  house  to  see  that  the  peons  were 
carefully  watching  over  their  common  safely. 

'•Provided  that  Cuchares  has  not  fulfilled  my  orders  !"  he  muttered. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

THE    MAN-HUNT. 

Ox  the  next  morning  at  daybreak  the  little  band  quitted  the  Gasa  Grande 
and  two  hours  later  entered  the  Del  Xorte.  At  the  sight  of  the  desert  the 
mai  Icn  felt  her  heart  contract  ;  a  seer  -t  presentiment  seemed  to  warn  her 
that  the  future  would  be  fata!.  She  turned  back,  cast  a  mel.mcholy  glance 
on  the  gloomy  forests  which  chequered  the  horixon  behind  her,  and  could 
not  r  :li.  The  temperature  was  sultry,  the  sky  blue,  not  a  bicath 

of  wind  was  stirring:  on  the  sand  might  still  be  seen  the  deep  footsteps  of 
the  count's  free  company. 

"  We  are  on  ti.c  r  n  the  Iiaciendero  said';  "  their  trail  is  visible."' 

••  ">  .  '  :';e  Tigrero  muttered,  '-and  it  will  remain  so  till  the  temporal  is 
unchained." 

"  Then,'1  Donna  Anita  remarked,  "may  Heaven  come  to  our  aid  !" 

"Amen  !"  all  the  travellers  exclaimed,  crossing    them-  -nnctively 

iding  to  the  secret  voice    which  each  of  as  has  in  the  depths  of  our 
heart,  and  which  foreboded  to  their  misfortune. 

Several    houi  -  away:  the   weather  remained  fine.      At  times  tho 

traveller-  saw,  at  a  .ureat  di-tawe  abo\e  their  heads,  immmerabie  swarms  of 
birds  proceeding  toward  the  hot  region^,  or  1  -  they  are 

called  in  that  country,  and  hastening  to  cnw  the  deaert.  But  every  where 
nothing  was  visible  save  a  grey  and  melancholy  sand,  or  gloomy  nickd  wildly 
piled  on  each  other  like  the  ruins  of  an  unknown  and  antediluvian  world, 
found  at  times  in  remote  solitudes. 

The  caravan,  when  ni^i.:  'imped    under   the    shelter  of  a  block  of 

granite,  lighting  a  poor  fire,  hnrdh  sufficient  to  protect  them  from  the  icy 
cold  which,  in  these  regions,  weighs  upon  nature  at  night.  Don  Martial  rode 


142  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

incessantly  on  the  sides  of  the  small  band,  watching  over  their  safety  with 
tilial  solicitude,  never  remaining  a  moment  at  rest,  in  spite  of  the  urging  of 
Don  S  viva  and  the  entreaties  of  the  maiden. 

"  No  !"  he  constantly  answered;  "on  my  vigilance  your  safety  depends. 
Let  me  act  as  I  think  proper.  I  should  never  pardon  myself  if  I  allowed 
you  to  be  surprised." 

Gradually  the  traces  left  by  the  troops  became  less  visible,  and  at  length 
disappeared  entirely.  One  evening,  at  the  moment  the  travellers  were  form- 
ing their  camp  at  the  foot  of  an  immense  rock,  which  formed  a  species  of 
roof  over  their  heads,  the  haciendero  pointed  out  to  Don  Martial  a  thin 
white  vapour,  which  stood  out  prominently  against  the  blue  sky. 

"  The  sky  is  loosing  its  brightness,"  he  said  ;  "  we  shall  probably  soon  have 
a  change  of  weather.  God  grant  that  a  hurricane  does  not  menace  us  !" 

The  Tigrero  shook  his  head. 

"  No,"  he  said,  "  }rou  are  mistaken.  Your  e}res  are  not  so  accustomed  as 
mine  to  consult  the  sky.  That  is  not  a  cloud." 

"  What  is  it,  then  ?" 

"  The  smoke  of  a  bois  de  vache  fire  kindled  by  travellers.  We  have  neigh- 
bors." 

"  Oh  !"  the  haciendero  said.  "  Can  we  be  on  the  trail  of  those  friends  we 
have  lost  so  long  ?" 

Don  Martial  remained  silent.  He  minutely  examined  the  smoke,  which 
was  soon  mingled  with  the  atmosphere.  At  length  he  said : — 

"  That  srn.,ke  bodes  us  no  good.  Our  friends,  as  you  call  them,  are 
Frenchmen;  that  is  to  sa}r,  profoundly  ignorant  of  desert  life.  Were  they 
near  us,  it  would  be  as  easy  to  see  them  as  that  rock  down  there.  They 
would  have  lighted  not  one  fire,  but  twenty  braseros,  whose  flames,  and 
above  all,  dense  smoke,  would  have  immediately  revealed  their  presence  to 
us.  They  do  not  select  their  wood  :  whether  it  be  dry  or  damp  they  care 
little.  They  are  unaware  of  the  importance  in  the  desert  of  discovering 
one's  enemy,  \vhile  not  allowing  one's  presence  to  be  suspected." 

"  You  conclude  from  this  ?" 

"That  the  fire  you  discovered  has  been  lit  by  savages,  or  at  least  by  wood- 
rangers  accustomed  to  the  habits  of  Indian  life.  All  leads  to  this  supposi- 
tion. Judge  for  yourself— you  wh^,  without  any  great  experience,  though 
having  a  slight  acquaintance  with  the  desert,  took  it  for  a  cloud.  Any  su- 
perficial observer  would  have  committed  the  same  mistake  as  yourself,  so 
line  and  undulating  as  it  is,  and  its  color  harmonises  so  well  with  all  those 
vapors  the  sun  incessantly  draws  out  of  the  earth.  The  men,  whoever  they 
may  be,  who  lit  that  fire,  have  left  nothing  to  chance;  they  have  calculated 
and  foreseen  everything,  and  I  am  greatly  mistaken  if  they  are  not  enemies." 

"At  what  distance  do  you  suppose  them  from  us  ?" 

"Four  leagues  at  the  most.     What  is  that  distance  in  the  desert,  when  it 
can  be  crossed  so  easily  in  a  straight  line  ?" 
Then  your  advice  is?"  the  haciendero  asked. 

"Weigh  well  my  words,  Don  Sylva;  above  all,  do  not  give  them  an  inter- 
pretation differing  from  mine.  By  a  prodigy  almost  unexampled  in  the  Del 
Norte,  we  have  now  been  crossing  the  desert  for  nearly  three  weeks,  and 
nothing  has  happened  to  trouble  our  security :  for  a  week  we  have  been, 
moreover,  seeking  a  trail  which  it  is  impossible' to  come  on  again." 

"  Quite  true/' 

"I  have,  therefore,  worked  out  this  conclusion,  which  I  believe  to  be  cor- 
rect, and  which  you  will  approve,  I  am  convinced.  The  French  only  acci- 
dentally formed  the  resolution  of  entering  the  desert:  they  only  did  it  to 
pursue  the  Apaches.  Is  not  that  your  view  ?" 

"It  is/' 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  143 

"Very  pood.     Consequently,  it  in   a   straight,    lino.     The 

weather  which  has  favored  u>  favoured  them  too:  their  inten--.t.  tv-  object 
they  wished  to  attain,  everything,  in  a  word,  demanded  ti,  -,;ould 

display  the  utmost  .-peed  in  their  march.  A  pursuit,  you  know  us  well  a~>  1, 
is  a  chase  in  \vhieh  ea<-h  tries  to  arrive  first." 

"Then  you  .suppose ?''   Don  Sylvu  interrupted  lam. 

"Iain   certain    that    the    French   left    the  desert   long  ago,  and  are    now 
,  cr  the  plains   of  Apacheria:  that   lire  \ve    noticed  i,  a  convincing 
proof  to  B 

-II 

"  You  \\ill  soon   understand.    The  Apaches  have  the  great  -t  in 

driving  the  i'rench  from  their  bunting-grounds.  Desperate  ai  >cring  them 
out  of  the  desert,  they  have  lit  this  lire  to  deceive  them,  and  compel  their 
return/' 

The  haciendero  was  thoughtful.  The  reasons  Don  Martial  offered  him 
seemed  correct:  he  knew  not  what  determination  to  form. 

'•  Well,  "  he  said  presently,  "and  what  conclusion  do  you  arrive  at  from 
all  tin 

"  That  we  should  do  wrong,"  Don  Martial  said  resolutely,  "  in  losing  more 

time  heie  in  search  of  people  who  are  no  longer   in  the  desert,  and  running 

the  ri-k  of  being  caught   by  a  tempest,  which  every  passing    dour  renders 

imminent  in  a   country  like  this,  which  is  continually  exposed  to  hur- 

naaa 

"Then  you  would  return!" 

"  By  ii"  means.     I  would  push  on,  and  enter  Apacheria  as  qmcMy  as  pos 
i. 'i-  I  am  convinced  1  should  then  be  speedily  on  the  trail  of  our  friends." 

"  Yes,  that  appears  to  me  correct  enough;  but  we  area  long  way  yet 
from  the  p:-aii 

-  Nut  *<>  far  us  you  suppose  ;  but  let  us  break  off  our  conversation  at  this 
point.  I  wish  to  go  out  and  examine  that  fire  more  closely,  far  it  troubles 

v." 
prudent." 

"I-  ;  \  -ur  safety  concerned  ?"  the  Tigrero  said,  as  he  bent  a  gentle 
and  mournful  ghnce,  on  Donna  Anita.  He  rose,  saddled  his  horse  in  a  sec- 
ond, ai;«l  .started  :it  a  pa!! 

••  ii.v  ;  ;•;•:  '."  D  >nna  Anita  murmured,  on  seeing  him  disappear  in  tho 
mist.  PO  sighed,  but  made  no  further  re~ply,  and  las  head  fell 

pensively  on  h 

Don  Martial  pressed  on  rapidly  by  the  flickering  light  of  the  im«ui,  which 
My  and  fantastic  rays  over  the  desolate  scene.     At  times  ho 
;ved  h— >vy  rocks,  dumb  and  gloomy 

strijM   .  i  f.r.-a  l..n  -  iii-tanee  ;  ore;-'-  enormous  al,:  whose 

bran.  iaden    with    that   thick   moss  called  Spaniard's  beard,  which 

fell  in  long  festoons,  and  was  agitated  by  the  slightest  breath  of  \\  ind. 

After  nearly  an  hour  and    a    half's  march,  the  Tigrero  stopped  his  horse 
dismounted,  and  looked  attentively  around  him.     He  soon  found  what  he 
;  t  distance  from  him  the  wind  and  rain  had  hollowed  a  rather 
ueep  ravine  ;  he  drew  his  horse  into  it,  fastened  it  to  an  enormous  stone, 
bound  tip  it  its  neighing,  and  went  off, after  throwing  hid 

rifle  on  his  shoulder. 

From  the  spot  where  he  was  this  moment  standing  the  fire  was  visible, 
and  the  red  Hash  it  traced  in  the  air  stood  out  clearly  in  the  darkness.  Sev- 
eral shadows  were  round  the  fire,  which  the  Tigrero  i\  at  the  first 
glance  as  Indians.  The  Mexican's  experience  had  not  failed  him.  They  were 
certainly  red  men  encamped  there  at  a  short  distance  from  his  party.  But 
who  were  they  '/  Friends  or  enemies  ?  lie  must  assure  himself  of  the  fact. 


144  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

This  was  not  an  easy  matter  on  this  flat  und  barren  soil,  where  it  was  al- 
most impossible  to  advance  without  being  noticed  ;  for  the  Indians  are  like 
wild  beasts,  possessing  the  privilege  of  seeing  in  the  night.  In  the  gloom 
their  pupils  expand  like  those  of  tigers,  and  they  distingui  h  their  enemies 
as  easily  in  the  deepest  shadow  as  in  the  most  daz/ling  sunshine. 

Still  Don  Martial  did  not  recoil  from  his  task.  Not  far  from  the  savages' 
camping-ground  rose  a  gigantic  granite  boulder,  at  the  foot  of  which  three  or 
four  ahuehuelts  had  sprung  up,  and  in  the  course  of  time  so  entangled  their 
branches  with  one  another  that  they  formed,  at  a  certain  distance  up  the 
rock,  a  thorough  thicket.  The  Tigrero  lay  down  on  the  ground,  and  gently, 
inch  by  inch,  he  glided  in  the  direction  of  the  rock,  skilfully  raking  advan- 
tage of  the  shadow  thrown  by  the  rock  itself.  It  took  the  Tigrero  nearly 
half  an  hour  to  cross  the  forty  yards  that  still  separated  him  from  the  rook. 
At  length  he  reached  it  ;  he  then  stopped  to  draw  breath,  arid  uttered  asigli 
of  satisfaction.  The  rest  was  nothing  :  he  no  longer  feared  being  seen,  ow- 
ing to  the  curtain  of  branches  that  hid  him  from  the  sight  of  the  Indians, 
but  only  being  heard.  After  resting  a  few  seconds  he  began  climbing  again, 
raising  himself  gradually  on  the  abrupt  side  of  the  boulder.  At  le.igth  he 
found  himself  level  with  the  branches,  into  which  he  glided  and  disapp  ared. 

From  the  hiding-place  he  had  so  fortunately  reached  he  could  not  only  sur- 
vey the  Indian  camp,  but  perfectly  hear  their  conversation.     We  need  scarce- 
ly say  that  Don  Martial  understood  and  spoke  perfectly  all    the  dialects  of 
the  Indian  tribes  that  traverse  the  vast  solitudes  of  Mexico.  + 

These  Indians  Don  Martial  at  once  recognised  to  be  Apaches.  His  forebo- 
dings then  were  realised.  Round  a  dung  fire,  which  produced  a  lar^e  flame, 
while  only  allowing  a  slight  thread  of  smoke  to  escape,  several  chiefs  were 
'gravely  crouching  on  their  heels,  and  smoking  their  calumets  while  warming 
themselves,  for  the  air  was  sharp.  Don  Martial  distinguished  in  their  midst 
the  Black  Bear.  The  sachem's  face  was  gloomy  ;  he  seemed  in  a  terrible 
passion  ;  he  frequently  raised  his  head  anxiously,  and  fixing  his  piercing  eye 
on  the  space,  scrutinised  the  darkness.  A  noise  of  horse-hoofs  was  heard, 
and  a  mounted  Indian  entered  the  lighted  part  of  the  camp.  After  alight- 
ing, the  Indian  approached  the  fire,  crouched  near  his  comrades,  lighted  his 
calumet,  and  began  smoking  with  a  perfectly  calm  face,  although  the  dust 
that  covered  him,  and  his  panting  chest,  showed  that  he  must  have  made  a 
long  and  painful  journey. 

On  his  arrival  the  Black  Bear  gazed  fixedly  at  him,  and  they  went  on 
smoking  without  say  ing  a  word;  for  Indian  etiquette  prescribes  that  the 
sachem  should  not  interrogate  another  chief  before  the  latter  has  shaken 
into  the  fire  the  ashes  of  his  calumet.  The  Black  Bear's  impatience  was 
evidently  shared  bv  the  other  Indians  ;  still  all  remained  grave  and  silent. 
At  length  the  new  comer  drew  a  final  pulY  of  smoke,  which  he  sent  foith 
through  his  mouth  and  nostrils,  and  returned  his  calumet  to  his  girdle.  The 
Black  Bear  turned  to  him. 

"The  Little  Panther  has  been  long,"  he  said. 

As  this  was  not  a  question  the  Indian  limited  himself  to  replying  with  a 
bow. 

"  The  vultures  are  soaring  in  large  flocks  over  the  desert,"  the  chief  pres- 
ently continued  ;  "the  coyotes  are  sharpening  their  bent  claws;  the  Apaches 
scent  a  smell  of  blood  which  makes  their  hearts  bound  with  joy  in  their 
breasts.  Has  my  son  seen  nothing  ?" 

"  The  Little  Panther  is  a  renowned  warrior  of  his  tribe.  At  the  first 
leaves  he  will  be  a  chief.  lie  has  fulfiled  the  mission  his  father  entrusted 
to  him." 

"  Wah  !  what  are  the  Long-knives  doing  ?" 

"  The  Lon^-knives  are  dogs  that  howl  without  knowing  how  to  bite  :  an 
Apache  wairior  terrifies  them." 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  145 

The  chiefs  smiled  with  pride  at  this  boast,  which  they  simply  regarded  as 
seriously  meant. 

M The  Little  Panther  has  seen  their  camp,"  the  Indian  continued  ;"  he 
lias  eomted  them.  They  fry  like  women,  and  lament  like  weak  children. 
Two  of  them  will  not  take  their  accusto  riiis  night  at  the  council 

fire  uf  their  brothers.'1 

And  with  a  gesture  marked  with  a  certain  'Ability,  the  Indian 

rai.-ed  the  cotton  .-hirt  which  fell  from  ,  half  way  down  his 

thighs,  and  displayed  two  bleeding  se.ilp-  la^em-i!  t.»  liin  \vai>f  belt. 

"  Wall  !"  the  chiefs    exclaimed  jovfullv,  "the    Little    Panther  has  fought 

tardy!" 

The  Black  Bear  made  the  warrior  a  sign  to  hand  him  the  scalps.  He  nn- 
fasteiied  them  and  jiave  them.  The  Michem  examined  them  attentively. 
The  Apaches  fixed  their  eyes  eagerly  upon  him. 

"  Awlftth  (it  is  good),"  he  said  presently  j  u  my  hrotlier  has  killed  a  Long- 
knife  and  a  "\  ori." 

And  he  returned  the  scalps  to  the  wairior. 

'•  Have  the  pale-faces  di.-covered  the  trail  of  the  Ap«d 

"  The  pale- faces  arc  moles  ;  they  are  only  good  in  their  great  stone  villa- 
ges/' 

"  What  has  my  son  done  ?" 

"The  Panther  executed  the  orders  of  the  sachem  point  by  point.  When 
the  warrior  perceived  that  the  pale-lares  would  not  >ce  him,  he  went  to- 
wards them  mocking  them,  and  led  them  lor  three  hours  after  him  int» 
the  he-art  of  the  de.- 

'•  ( iixjd  !  my  son  has  done  well.     What  next  ?" 

"  When  the  pale-faces  had  gone  far  enough  the  Panthr-r  left  them,  after 
kill'fng  two  in  memory  of  his  visit,  and  then  proceeded  to  the  camp  of  tho 
\\arriors  of  his  nation." 

••  .My  -on  is  weary  :  the  hour  of  rest  has  arrived  for  him." 
r  yet,"  the  Indian  replied  seriously. 

"  Wah  !  let  my  son  explain." 

At  this  remark  Don  Martial,  who  was  listening  attentively  to  all  that  was 
§aid,  felt  hi.s  heart  contract,  he  knew  not  why.  The  Indian  continued  : — 

••  There  are  others  beside  the  Long-knives  in  the  desert ;  the  Little  Pan- 
ther liasdiscoM-red  another  trail." 

*  A  not  her  trail  r 

'•  Ye>.  ii  is  not  very  visible  :  there  are  seven  horses  and  three  mules  in 
all.  I  recognised  one  of  the  In 

"  Wah  !   I  await  what  my  brother  is  abont  to  tell  me." 

"Si\  Yori  warriors,  having  a  woman  with  them,  have  entered  the  desert." 

The  chief*  eyes  flashed  lire. 

'   A  pale  faced  ivonian  ?:'  he  asked 

The  Indian  bowed  in  affirmation.  The  sachem  reflected  for  a  moment, 
and  then  his  face  re-assumed  that  stoical  mask  which  w.ts  habitual  to  it. 

"  The  l;  is  not  mistaken,"  he  said  ;  u  lie  smelt  the  scent  of  blood 

l:i>  Aj.:  ;!1    have  a  splendid    H,a-e.     To-morrow   at   t 

(sunrise)  the  warriors   will    mount.     The  >;ichem'-  --mpty.     1 

now  leave  the  Hig-knive.s  to  their  fate,"  he  added,  rai-ing  hiscye.>  to  h< 
"  Nyang,  the  genius   (»f  evil,  will  t«ike  on  himself  to  bury  them  b 
sand.     The  Master  of  Life  summons  the  tempest :  our  ta-k  is  fill.1 
us  follow  the  track    of  the  Yoris,  and  return  to    our  In  :nds  at  full 

speed.     The  hurricane  will  soon  howl    across  tin-  •'  •  can  go  to 

sleep  :  a  chief  will  watch  over  them.     1  have  sjxjken." 

The  warriors    bowed    silently,;  after  the   other,  and  went  to   lie 

down  <n  tl.-c  jr^id  a  short  distance  off.     Within  live  minutes  they  were  al!  in 


146  THE   TIGER-SLAYER. 

•* 

a  deep  sleep.  The  Black  Bear  alone  watched.  With  his  head  in  his  hands, 
and  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  he  looked  fixedly  at  the  sky.  At  times  his  face 
lost  that  severe  expression,  and  a  transient  smile  played  around  Iris  lips. 
What  thoughts  thus  absorbed  the  sachem?  On  what  was  he  meditating? 

Don  Martial  read  his  thoughts,  and  felt  a  shudder  of  terror,  lie  remain- 
ed another  half-hour  motionless  in  his  hiding-place  lest  he  might  run  the 
risk  of  discovery.  Then  he  went  down  again  as  he  had  come,  employing 
even  greater  precautions;  for  at  this  moment,  when  a  leaden  silence  brood- 
ed over  the  desert,  the  slightest  sound  would  have  betrayed  his  presence  to 
the  Indian  chiefs  subtile  ear.  lie  feared  the  discovery  now  more  t!:an  ever, 
after  the  revelations  he  had  suceeeded  in  overhearing.  At  length  he  reached 
again,  all  safe  and  sound,  the  spot  where  he  had  left  his  horse. 

For  some  time  the  Tigrero  lot  the  bridle  hang  loosely  on  his  noble  ani- 
mal's neck,  went  slowly  onwards,  revolving  in  his  mind  all  he  had  heard, 
and  searching  for  the  means  he  should  employ  to  shield  his  companions  from 
the  frightful  danger  that  menaced  them.  His  perplexity  was  extreme  :  he 
knew  not  what  to  decide  on.  He  knew  Don  Sylva  too  well  to  suppose  that 
a  personal  interest,  however  powerful  it  might  be,  would  induce  him  to  aban- 
don his  frien  Is  in  their  present  peril.  But  must  Donna  Anita  be  sacrificed 
to  this  delicacy — to  this  false  notion  of  honor;  above  all,  for  a  man  in  every 
respect  unworthy  of  the  interest  the  haciendero  felt  for  him  ? 

It  was  possible  to  avoid  and  escape  the  Apaches  by  skill  and  courage: 
but  how  to  escape  the  tempest  which  in  a  few  hours  perhaps,  would  burst 
on  the  desert,  destroy  every  trace,  and  render  flight  impossible  ? 

The  girl  must  be  saved  at  any  risk.  This  thought  incessantly  returned 
to  the  Tigrero's  perplexed  mind,  and  gnawed  at  his  heart  like  a  searing  iron  : 
he  felt  himself  affected  by  a  cold  rage  on  considering  the  material  impossi- 
bilities that  rose  so  implacably  before  him.  How  to  save  the  girl  ?  He 
constantly  asked  himself  this  question,  for  which  he  found  no  answer.  For 
along  time  he  went  on  thus  with  drooping  head,  seeking  in  vain  a  method 
which  would  enable  him  to  act  on  his  own  aspiration,  and  escape  from  the 
critical  position  in  which  he  found  himself.  At  length  light  dawned  on  his 
mind ;  he  raised  hit*,  head  haughtily,  cast  a  glance  of  defiance  toward  the 
enemies  who  appeared  so  sure  of  seizing  his  companions,  and  digging  the 
spur>  into  his  horse,  started  at  full  speed. 

When  he  reached  the  camp  he  found  every  one  asleep  save  the  peon  who 
was  mounting  guard.  The  night  was  well  on — it  was  about  one  o'clock  in 
the  morning  ;  the  moon  spread  around  a  dazzling  light,  almost  as  clear  as  day. 
The  Ap'iches  would  not  set  out  before  daybreak,  and  he  had,  then-fore,  about 
four  hours  loft  him  for  action.  He  resolved  to  profit  by  them.  Four  hours 
well  emnloved.  are  enormous  in  a  flight. 

The  Tigrero  began  by  carefully  rubbing  down  his  horse  to  restore  the  elas- 
ticity to  its  limbs,  for  he  would  need  all  its  speed  ;  then,  aided  by  the  peons, 
he  loaded  the  mules  and  saddled  the  horses.  This  last  accomplished,  he  re- 
flected for  a  moment,  and  they  wrapped  round  the  horse-'  hoof 5  pieces  of 
sheep -skin  filled  with  sand.  This  stratagem,  he  fancied,  would  foil  the  In- 
dians, who,  no  longer  recognising  the  traces  they  expected,  would  fancy 
themselves  on  a  false  trail.  For  greater  security  he  ordered  two  or  three 
skins  of  mezcat  to  be  left  on  the  rock.  He  knew  the  Apaches'  liking  for 
strong  liquors,  and  calculated  on  their  drunken  propensities.  This  done,  ho 
aroused  Dou  Sylva  and  his  daughter. 

"  To  horse  !  to  horse  !"  he  said  in  a  voice  that  admitted  of  no  reply. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  the  haciendero  asked,  still  half  asleep. 

"  That  if  we  do  not  start  at  once  we  are  lost  !" 

«  How— what  do  you  mean  ?" 

"  To  hor.^  !  to  horse  !  Every  imoment  we  waste  here  brings  us  nearer  to 
death.  Presently  1  will  explain  all." 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  147 

"In  Ilc-aven's  name  tell  me  what  the  matter  is  !" 

<;  You  shall  know.     Come,  come.*' 

"Without  listening  to  anything,  he  compelled  the  haciennero  to  mount: 
Donna  Anita  had  done  so  iilieady.  The  Torero  looked  around  for  the  last 
time,  and  gave  the  signal  fur  departure.  The  i>arty  started  at  tlicir  horses* 
topmost  speed. 


CHAPTER     XXIII. 

THE     APACHES. 

NOTHINC  is  so  monrnfilasa  night  march  through  the  desert,  especially 
under  Mich  circumstances  a.i  hurried  our  part}'  on.  Night  is  the  mother  of 
phantoms  ;  in  the  darkness,  the  gayest  landscapes  become  sinister — every- 
thing assumes  a  form  to  startle  the  traveller.  The  moon,  however  brilliant 
the  light  it  dill'uses  may  be,  imparts  to  objectsa  fantastic  appearance  and 
mournful  hues  which  cause  the  bravest  to  tremble. 

This  sepulchral  calmness  of  the  desert — this  solitude  that  surrounds  yon, 

torments  you  from  every  side,  and  {R-oples  the  scenery  with  spectres — this 

ob-curity  which  enfolds  you  like    a  leaden  shroud — all  combine  to  troublo 

•  ram,  and  arouse  a  species  of  febrile  terror,  which  the  vivifying  sun- 

:do:ie  powerful  enough  to  dissipate. 

In  spite  of  theniM-lves  our  friends  siuTcrcd  from  this  feeling.  They  gal- 
loped through  the  night,  not  able  to  explain  to  themselves  their  motive  for 
doing  s«i,  not.  knowing  whither  they  were  going. 

With  heavy  heads  and  weighed  down  eyelids,  they  had  only  o^c  thought — 
of  sleep.  IJorne  along  by  their  horses  at  headlong  speed,  the  trees  and 
rocks  danced  around  them.  They  therefore  secured  themselves  in  their  sad- 
dles, closed  their  eyes,  and  yielded  to  the  sleep  which  overwhelmed  them, 
and  which  they  no  longer  felt  the  strength  to  resist. 

Sleep  is  perhaps  the  most  tyrannical  and  imperious  necessity  of  man:  it 
all  else.  The  man  overpowered  by  sL-ep  will 

give  way  to  it,  no  matter  where  he  is,  or  what  danger  menaces  him.  Hun* 
ger  and  ttlinl  may  be  subdued  fora  while  by  strength  of  will  and  courage, 
but  sleep  r.iimot.  It  .strangles  you  in  its  iron  elaws,  and  in  a  lew  moment* 
hurls  you  down  panting  and  compered. 

With  tin-  exception  of  Don  Martial,  whose  eye  was  sharp  am!  mind  clear, 
the  other  members  of  the  party  resembled  somnambulist*.  1!  to  their 

shut  and  thoughts  \\  the/ 

hurried  on  uncoiiM-iou-ly.  a  prey  to  tnat  horrible  nightmare  u  iLner 

sleeping  nor  waking,  but  only  the  toqwr  of  the  sensed  and  the  oblivion  of 
the  mind. 

This  lasted  the  whole  night.  They  had  travelled  ten  leagues,  and  wort 
utterly  exhausted.  Still  at  sunrise',  beneath  the  inlluei.  i;m  rays, 

thev  gradually  shook  oil'  their  opened  their  eyes  looked  curious!/ 

around  thcni.'and  an  infinity  of  questions  rose  from  the  heart  to  the  lips*,  *a 
gem-rally  happens  in  such  a  e; 

The  party  had  reached  the  banks  of  the  Rio  (iila,  whose  muddy  water* 
form,  on  this  side,  the  desert  frontier.  Don  Martial,  after  carefully  examin- 
ing the  spot  where  he  was,  stopped  on  the  bank.  The  bags  of  sand  were  re- 
moved from  the  hoi  id  they  were  supplied  with  foo-1.  .\>  lor  the 
men,  they  must  temporarily  put  up  with  a  mouthful  of  rclino  to  restore  their 
strength. 

The  appearance  of  the  country  had  changed.     On  the  other  bank  of  thd 


148  1HE    11GER-S  LAYER. 

river  a  thick,  strong  grass  covered  the   ground,  and    immense  virgin  forests 
grew  on  the  horizon. 

"0:if !''  Don  Sylva  said,  rolling  on  the  ground  with  an  expression  of  great 
satisfaction,  "what  a  journey  !  I  am  worn  out.  If  t;iat  wens  to  last  Imt 
one  day,  voto  a  brios !  I  could  not  stand  it  any  longer.  1  am  neither  hungry 
nor  thirsty.  I  will  go  to  sleep." 

While  saying  this  the  hacieudero  had  arranged  himself  in  the  posture  most 
agreeable  for  a  nap. 

u  Not  yet,  Don  Sylva,"  the  Tigrero  said  sharply,  and  shaking  him  by  the 
arm.     "  Do  you  want  to  leave  your  bones  here  ?" 
"  Go  to  the  deuce !     I  want  to  sleep,  I  tell  you." 

"  Very  good,"  Don  Martial  made  answer  coldly;  "but  if  you  and  Dona 
Anita  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  Apaches  you  will  not  make  me  responsible 
for  it  ?" 

"  EU  ?"  the  haciendero  said,  jumping  up,  and  looking  him  in  the  face. 
"  What  are  you  saying  about  Apaches?'' 

"  I  tell  you  again  that  the  Apaches  are  in  pursuit  of  us.  We  are  only  a 
few  hours  ahead  of  them,  and  if  we  do  not  make  haste  we  are  lost," 

"  Uanarios !  we  must  fly,"  Don  Sylva  exclaimed,  now  thoroughly  awake. 
44  My  daughter  must  not  fall  into  the  hands  of  those  demons." 

As»  for  Dona  Anita,  little  troubled  her  at  this  moment.  She  was  fast 
asleep. 

"Let  the  borses  eat,  and  then  we  will  start.  We  have  a  long  way  to  go, 
and  tb*»y  must  be  able  to  bear  us.  These  few  moments  of  rest  will  allow 
Don*  Anita  to  regain  her  strength." 

"  Poor  child  !"  the  haciendero  muttered,  "  I  am  the  cause  of  what  has  hap- 
pened. My  unlucky  obstinacy  brought  us  here." 

"  What  use  is  recrimination,  Don  Sylva?  We  are  all  to  blame.  Let  us 
forget  the  past,  only  to  think  of  the  present." 

"  Yes,  you  are  right.  What  need  discussing  things  that  are  done  ?  Now 
that  I  am  perfectly  awake,  tell  me  what  you  did  during  the  night,  and  why 
you  forced  ua  to  start  so  suddenly." 

<;  Mv  story  will  be  short,  Don  Sylva;  but  you,  I  believe,  will  find  it  very 
interesting.  But  you  shall  judge  for  yourself.  After  leaving  you  last  night, 

sis  you  remember,  to  find  out " 

"Yes,  you  wished  to  examine  a  fire  that  seemed  to  you  suspicious." 
"That  wan  it.     Well,  I  was  not   mistaken:  that  fire,  as  I  supposed,  was  a 
.snare  laid  by  the  Apaches.     I   managed  to  crawl  up  to  them  unnoticed,  and 
Lear  their  conversation.     Do  you  know  what  they  said  ?" 

*;By  my  faith,  I  have  little  notion  what  such  idiots  as  those  talk  about." 

"Not  such-  idiots  as  you  fancy  somewhat  lightly,    Don  Sylva.  One  of  tneir 

runner.-*  was  telling  the   sachem  the   result   of  a   mission    entrusted  to  him. 

Among  other  things  he   mentioned   that  he  had  discovered  a  pale  face  trail, 

and  that  among  the  pale  faces  was  a  woman." 

"  Casp^ta !"  the  haciendero  exclaimed  in  terror,  "  are  you  quite  sure  of 
that,  Don  Martial  ?" 

"  The  more  so  because  I  heard  the  chief  make  this  reply.     Be  attentive, 

Don  Sylva " 

"1  am  listening,  my  friend:  go  on." 

"  *  At  sunrise  we  will  set  out  in  pursuit  of  the  pale  faces.  The  chiefs  lodge 
is  empty:  he  wants  a  white  woman  to  occupv  it.'  " 
"  Caramba  !" 

"  Yes.  Then  finding  T  had  learnt  sufficient  of  the  expedition  the  iwl-skins 
were  undertaking,  T  slipped  away  and  regained  our  camp  as  soon  as  possible. 

You  kno\fr  the " 

"  Yes,  I  know  the   rest,  Don   Martial,"  the   haciendero  sail  almost  affec- 


Til  K  TIC;  r.  11- si.  A  v  KI:.  149 

tionatety;  "  and  I  thank  you  rno*t  ainoeiely.  not  milv  for  the  inteTi'-enrc 
you  have  displaced  en  this  occasion,  imt  al-o  f..r  tin-  devotion  will)  wi  ieli 
you  co. nulled  u<  t«»  follow  VOM,  instead  of  U-in^  di.^uPied  |IV  ,,„,-  ,,  ;,,( 
sloth." 

"I  l.ave  done   nothing  Imt  what   I    should   do,   Don  Sxlvn.     lla\e    I  not 
SWern  to  devote  my  life-  to  you  ?" 

l>  Yes,  uiv  friend,  ami  yo  i  keep  your  vo\v  nobly." 

Since  tin-  haeiendero  had    known    Don  .Martial    this   was   tin-  fii>t  tin 
ppoke  ojHMily  with  him,  and  pave  him   the  title  of   friend.     Tin-  Ti-n  i 
touched  l»y  this  expression;  and  if  he  had  hitherto  felt  *o-ne  sli-ht  prejudice 
against  Don  Sylva,   it   wa»  suddenly  dissipated,   and   only  left  in  his  i., 
feeling  of  prolound  gratitude. 

Donn  Anita  awoke  during  this  conversation,  an  1  it  was  \vitli  an  indesr 
l»Ie  joy  that,  she  heard  them  talking  thus  amieal»ly  together.  \Vlienlnr 
father  told  her  the  c;i"se  of  the  hasty  journey  she  had  l»een  compelled  t-> 
undertake  in  the  middle  of  the  night,  she  warmly  thanked  Don  .Marti;d,  ;md 
rewarded  him  for  all  his  s  ;jferin^s  l»y  one  of  those  jjanees.  the  M-eief  of 
wlneu  only  women  in  love  jM>sse>8,  and  into  which  they  throw  their  \\holo 
ftonl.  Tne  TipixTo,  delighted  at  seeinjr  his  devotion  appreciated  a>  it  d»»- 
sei-ved  to  l»e,  forgot  all  his  fatigues  and  had  only  one  <le>iiv — tliat  of  teniii- 
natinz  happily  what  he  had  so  well  begun.  So  soon  a.s  the  hiM'ses  \\er«; 
KI  I  !l<-.l  tliey  mo-luted  ajrnin. 

i- I  lea\e  my-vlf  in  your  hands,  Don  Martial,"  the  haciendcro  sii^i:  u  vo;i 

u>." 

••  \\  it!i  the    help  of  Heaven    I  shall    succeed1'  tiie   'J'igrcro  replied  pas 
ely, 

•/entered   the  I'iver,  which  was    rather  wide  at   this  spot.     Instead  .)f 
M-4  it  at  rijrht  angles,  Don  Martial,  in  order  to  throw  the  .--avail's  otf  i  he 
followed  the  co  irse  of  the  river  for  some  di-tancc,  ami  made  repea' i  d 
curve-.      At  length,  on  reachinjr  a  ptint   where  the  river  was  incio-ed  l»y  two 
r:«le..ireou>  li.mks.  wnere  it  was   im|M»s>iliU»   f.n-  the  horses1  i,oo|>    to  lea\«-   .'i\- 
marks,    he   landed       The  |«rf.y  liad    left    the  desert.      Heliire  I  hem    -I;,  '..d 
tiioH-  i  nmense  prairies,  who,e  undlthuhlg  >oil  jrradually  ri  c^  to  the  slop 
the  Si<  iva    Madn-    and   t  he  Sierra  de    !<•-    Gbtimficil««(,      'I  !•<  -y   BN    IW  fu 
Mu-i.e  and  desolate  plains,  denuded   of  WOIM!  an  I  \vati  r.  Imt  a    lu.v  lian    Ma- 
ture, witli  an  extraor  linary  productive  force  — in  r-.  t!ov.  •  r-    JIM--:  i  .le** 

liirds  .sin^in.u;  jovo  :>ly  lieneatti  the  foiia-e;  animals  of  every  dexTij  IMI    /i.u- 
i-  i \\--i  i,'  an  I  -p  u'linr  in  t'ie  mid-t  of  tne-i-  n  if -iral    pi. urn-, 
travellers    viej.led    instinctively  to  the    leelinjr  of  eomlint  pioi'iM    •)  \,\- 
th«-  .si^ht  of  tuis   .splendid    pniirie.  wiien   compared  \\  it  h    t  he  iU  sol.  j»-    ' 
tiiev  [ltd  j'ist  quilted,  and    in  which  they  had   \\andere.i 

t    \\;i>   f.ill  of  diarm-  f.»r  tnem:    tiiey  fell    tin  ; 
i  !!ed,  an  I    hoj>e    returning  to   their    hearts.      Alioui    .  I.  . 

';iti_u  -d  f  hat    tie    travelled    \\ire    <om|clled    to  etic   mp.  in 
to  »ivi-  tilt-in   a  f.?\v  ho  ir-'  lest,   an  I    t  .i-oi   ihe 

Don  M  vrtial  cho>e  the  top  of  a  \viMKled    hill.  whei.  I 

be  .sin\e\e  1.  while   they  remained  eoiuph-tely  court  .-red  .-.nionu'  the  U  -f>. 

Vlie  '1'i^ri TO  would  not  pennit  t!n.'m.   ho\\e\ 
r.^  t.)  •  .>,M.'i«'  \\<>  ll  I  have  caused  tic-ii    retreat   \->  !••• 
lit  )h..-»it;';ii  t.ie.    could  not  e.\eivi-e  too  -:;•  it  pi 

that  t  ;i  •  Ap.f  ;cs  v\  o,i!-l    i  it    .«'       Hi  i 

!.:<..  i  no  n>:U  mi.sf,  l,e  t'ir.Kvn  off  t.ie  sct-iit.      i  •-    u  i»i:ii 

]if  ha  I  ta';e:u  tlie  Ti   revo  i-o  ild  not  Hatter  himself   with  ;he  <  ope  of  h   >-.iftj 
foii'- I  t  jeiii  ;  for  t  i<>  r  .1  s  .i:  s   \\- T  •  11.1  c,.\.  il.      .  J'ei 

e;vti'i:r  a  few  h-i-t.y  m-mthfuls  h?  a  I  i\\ed  t.i.-  c  mpaiit-ns  to  i-ijoy  n  rest  xi.ey 
liecdvid  MO  '^n  ally,  and  rose  to  ^  »  o.i   tr:e  v.  atclj. 


150  THE    TIGER- SLAYER. 

This  man  appeared  made  of  iron — fatigue  took  no  hold  on  him  ;  his  wilt 
was  so  firm  that  lie  resisted  everything,  and  the  desire  to  save  the  woman 
he  loved  endowed  him  with  a  supernatural  strength.  He  slowly  descended 
the  hill,  examining  each  shrub,  only  advancing  with  extreme  prudence,  and 
with  his  ear  open  to  every  sound,  however  slight.  So  soon  as  he  reached 
the  plain,  certain  that  hij»  presence  would  be  concealed  by  the  tall  grass,  in 
which  he  entirely  disappeared,  he  hastened  at  full  speed  towards  a  sombre 
and  primeval  forest,  whose  trees  approached  almost  close  to  the  hill.  This 
forest  was  really  what  it  appeared  to  be — a  virgin  forest.  The  trees  and 
leaves  intertwined  formed  an  inextricable  curtain,  through  which  a  hatchet 
would  have  been  required  to  cut  a  passage.  Ilad  he  been  alone,  the  Tigrero 
would  not  have  been  greatly  embarrassed. 

Skilful  and  powerful  as  he  was,  he  would  have  travelled  'twixt  earth  and 
sky,  by  passing  from  branch  to  'branch,  as  he  had  often  done  before.  But 
what  a  man  like  himself  could  do  \Vas  not  to  be  expected  from  a  frail  and 
weak  woman. 

For  an  instant  the  Tigrero  felt  his  heart  fail  him,  and  his  courage  give  way. 
But  this  despair  was  only  momentary.  Don  Martial  drew  himself  up  proud- 
ly and  suddenly  regained  all  his  energy.  He  continued  to  advance  toward 
the  forest,  looking  around  like  a  wild  beast  on  the  watch  for  prey.  All  of  a 
sudden  he  uttered  a  stifled  cry  of  joy.  He  had  found  what  he  had  been  seek- 
ing without  any  hope  of  finding  it. 

Before  him,  beneath  a  thick  dome  of  verdure,  ran  one  of  those  narrow 
paths  formed  by  wild  beasts  in  going  to  water,  which  it  required  the  Tigre- 
ro's  practised  eye  to  detect.  *  He  resolutely  turned  aside  into  this  path.  Like 
all  such  it  took  innumerable  turnings,  incessantly  coming  back  on  itself.  Af- 
ter following  it  for  a  length  of  time,  the  Tigrero  went  back  and  re-ascended 
the  hill. 

His  companions,  anxious  at  his  prolonged  absence,  were  impatiently  expect- 
ing him.  Each  welcomed  his  return  with  delight.  He  told  them  what  he 
had  been  doing,  and  the  track  he  had  discovered.  While  Don  Martial  had 
been  on  the  search,  one  of  his  peons,  however,  had  made,  on  the  side  of  this 
very  hill,  a  discovery  most  valuable  at  such  a  moment  to  our  travellers. 
This  man,  while  wandering  about  the  neighborhood  to  kill  time,  had  found 
the  entrance  to  a  cave  which  he  had  not  dared  to  explore,  not  knowing 
whether  he  might  not  unexpectedly  find  himself  face  to  face  with  a  wild  ani- 
mal. * 

Don  Martial  quivered  with  joy  at  this  news.  He  seized  a  torch  and  or- 
dered the  peon  to  lead  him  to  the  cavern.  It  was  only  a  few  paces  distant, 
and  on  that  side  of  the  hill  which  faced  the  river.  The  entrance  was  so  ob- 
structed by  shrnbs  ;vn<l  parasitic  planks,  that  it  was  evident  no  living  In-ill* 
had  ever  penetrated  it  for  many  a  long  year.  The  Tigrero  moved  the  shrubs 
with  the  greatest  care,  in  order  not  to  injure  them,  and  glided  into  the  cav- 
ern. The  entrance  was  tolerably  lofty,  though  rather  narrow.  Before  going 
in  Don  Martial  struck  a  light  and  kindled  the  torch. 

This  cavern  was  one  of  those  natural  grottos,  so  many  of  which  are  to  be 
found  in  these  regions.  The  walls  were  lofty  and  dry,  the  ground  covered 
with  fine  sand.  It  evidently  received  air  from  imperceptible  fissures,  as  no 
mephitic  exhalation  escaped  from  it,  and  breathing  was  quite  easy  ;  in  a 
word,  although  it  was  somewhat  gloomy,  it  was  habitable.  It  grew  gradu- 
ally lower  to  a  species  of  hall,  in  the  centre  of  which  was  a  gulf,  the  bottom 
of  which  Don  Martial  could  not  see,  though  he  held  down  his  torch.  Ho 
looked  around  him,  saw  a  lump  of  rock,  probably  detached  from  the  roof,  and 
threw  it  into  the  abyss.  For  a  long  time  he  heard  the  stone  dashing  against 
the  sides,  and  then  the  noise  of  a  body  falling  into  water.  Don  Martial  had 
learned  all  lie  wanted  to  knovr  lie  stepped  past  the  gulf,  and  advanced 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  151 

alon^  a  narrow  shelving  passage.  After  walking  for  about  ton  minutes  along 
it,  he  saw  light  a  OOnSoenMfl  distance  ahvad.  The  grotto  had  two  outlets. 
l>.»ii  Martial  returned  at  fuil  speed, 

•'  \V«  are  .-aved  !"  he  said  to  his  companions.     "  Follow  me  :  we  have  not 
an  in-taut  to  l<>  "  in  iv.ic'.iing  the  refuge  Providence  so  generously  oilers  us." 
-  They  followed  him. 

•'  What  shall  we  do,  though,"  Don  Sylva  asked,  "  with  the  1 

u  Do  not  troulile  youivclves  *about  them;  1  will  conceal  them.  Place  in 
the  t-T'tto  our  pro\  i>ion-,  for  it  is  probable  we  shall  lie  forced  to  remain  here 
some  time  ;  also  keep  by  you  the  saddles  and  bridles,  which  1  do  not  know 
what  to  do  with.  As  for  the  h  rses,  they  are  my  bu-iii' 

Kadi  set  to  work  \\ith  that  feverish  ardour  produced  by  the  hope  o4 
caping  a  danger  ;  and  at  the  end  of  an  hour  at  most,  the  ba»gage.  provisions, 
and  men  had  all  disappeared  in  the  cavern.  Don  Martial  drew  the  bu.-lu-s 
over  tin- entrance,  to  hide  the  traces  of  his  com  pan  ions'  passage,  and  breathed 
with  that  delight  eau-ed  by  the  success  of  a  daring  project ;  then  he  returned 
to  the  crest  of  the  hill. 

!!••  fastened  the  horses  and  mules  together  with  his  reata,  and  descending 
to  the  p'a:n,  he  proceeded  toward  the  forest,  and  entered  the  path  he  had 
previoii.-lv  tli.M-o\rrcd.  It  \\as  MTV  narrow,  and  the  horses  could  only  pro- 
ceed in  single  tile,  and  with  extreme  difficulty.  At  length  he  reached  a 
species  of  clearing,  where  he  abandoned  the  j)oor  animals,  leaving  them  all 
.  winch  ho  hud  taken  care  to  pack  on  the  mules.  Don  Martial  was 
\\eil  :i\\are  that  the  hor-es  would  stray  but  a  short  distance  from  the  spot 
win-re  he  K-ft  them,  and  that  when  tliey  were  want«-d  it  would  be  ca.-y  to 
find  them. 

The.-e  various-  occupations  had  consumed  a  good  deal  of  time,  and  the  day 
w.-i-  c-.iM'ienibly  advanced  when  the  Tigreru  finally  quitted  the  forest.  The 
sun,  v»  rv  low  on  the  horiy.ou.  appeared  like  a  ball  of  lire,  nearly  on  a  letvel 
\\itii  thegrotin  .  The  .-hadow  of  the  trees  was  disproportionately  elongated, 
1  he  evening  hn  e/e  was  begining  to  rise.  A  few  hoaive  cries,  issuing  at  iu- 
terxaU  frosn  thedept  is  of  the  forest,  announced  the  speedy  re-awakening  of 
the  wild  bca-ts.  tlx»e  <leni/.eiis  of  the  divert  which,  during  the  night,  are  its 
absolute  king. 

On  ivaciiini:  the  crest  of  the  hill,  and  before  entering  the  grotto.  Don  Mar- 
tial Mir\e\ed  ti.e  hoii/.oii  by  the  la-t  rays  of  the  expiring  sun.  Suddenly  he 
turned  pah-  ;  a  ii'-rvo  is  >hudd-.M-  pasM-1  thro-igh  liis  frame;  his  eye*,  dilated 
bv  terror,  w»  re  i.b>iin:iiely  fixed  on  the  river;  and  he  mullcnd  in  a  io\v 
voice.  >iampiiu  witii  fs;r\  : — 

-  Abeadv  ?      The  deiu- 

AViiat,  the  TijMvio  had  -eeii  WAS  really  stai'tlin:.      A  band  of  Indian  h 
men  was  traVi'!>ing  the  l-i\»-r  at   I  he  preci-e  s|.of  \\  |,ere  he  and  hi>  eolnpaliioiis 
had  cros-eil  it    a  few  hour.-    jie\ioi>|y.      I  <  n    .N':irii.-l  lbllow«-d    tl.eir  i 
ments  \\  ith  grow  ing  alarm.     On  arm  ing  at  t  he  riv«-r  bank,  \\  itho-n  ;-.ny 
tatiou  or  delay,  tiiev  took  up  hi-  trail.      Doubt  \\a-  no  I  -iiile  ;  the 

Apacln's  had  liot  bien  ili-c*  ived  by  the  hunter's  M-l.cmes.  but  had  ouueili  a 
htr.ii'.hr  line  behind  the  party.  e.\t-r»-i-iiig  great  diligence.  In  l<9>«  Uiaii  afl 
houi-  they  would  r»-aeh  ti.e  bill  ;  and  then,  with  that  diabolical  -<  u-n<»  tl.ey 
po->e»e  1  t«>  <ii-<-o\.  i  tlie  be-f  liid«ieii  trail,  who  knew  what  would  h«|ip«-ii  / 

Tl:e  Ti;.:rero  felt  his  IK  ait    breaking,   rnd  half  n  -ad  with    i'i  into 

the  grot  to.     On  seoinu"  liim    enter  tlm-witli    livid  fcatuix-s,    the    haci«  ; 
and  IMS  daughter  hurried  TO  meet  i  itn. 

••  \\  hat  i-  i:  e  matter  / '   I  i.ey  a-ked. 

"  \\"e  ar-  lo>t  !"    i.e  e.xciaimetl  with  despair.      "  Ib-n-  are  the  Apaches  !v 
•y  men.  i. 

'•  O   In  aven-.  -  I  oiiua  ,'\  her  krc(  >    and  fer- 

Veuttv  cl«:s:  ifij     - 


152  THE    TIG  E  R  -  S  I.  A  YKft. 

The  Tijirero  bent  over  tlie  fair  girl,  took  her  in  his  arms  with  a  strength 
mult-red  i enfold  by  grief,  and  turning  to  the  haciendero  : — 

•'Coiiie."  lie  shouted,  "follow  me.  Perhaps  one  ciiance  of  salvation  is  still 
left  ;.s." 

An.»  he  hurried  toward  the  extremity  of  the  grotto,  all  eagerly  following 
him.  They  hurried  on  for  some  time  in  this  way.  Donna  Anita,  almost 
fanning,  leaned  her  lovely  head  on  the  Torero's  shoulders.  He  »till  ran  on. 

"  Come,  come,"   he  said,  '"  we  shall  soon  lie  saved." 

His  companions  uttered  a  shout  of  joy  :  they  had  perceived  a  ••  learn  of 
day  tight  before  them.  Suddenly,  at  the  moment  Don  Martial  reached  tiie 
entrance,  and  was  about  to  rush  forth,  a  man  appeared.  It  was  the  Black 
Bear. 

Tne  Tigrero  leaned  back  with  the  howl  of  a  wild  bea-t. 

•  \Vuh  !"  the  Apache  said,  with  a  mocking  voice,  "mv  brother  knows  that 
I  love  tnis  woman,  and  to  please  me  hastens  to  bring  her  to  me/' 

u  You  have  not  got  her  yet,  demon  !"  Don  Martial  shouted,  boldly  placing 
himself  belore  Donna  Anita,  with  a  pistol  in  each  hand.*  "Come  and  take 
her." 

Rapidly  approaching  footsteps  were  heard  in  the  depths  of  the^  cavern. 
The  Mexicans  were  caught  between  two  fires.  The  black  Bear,  with  his 
eye  fixed  on  the  Tigrero,  watched  his  every  movement.  Suddenly  he  bound- 
ed forward  like  a  tiger  cat,  uttering  his  war-yeil.  The  Tigrero  fired  both  pis- 
tols at  him.  and  seized  him  round  the  wai»t.  The  two  men  rolled  on  the 
ground,  intertwined  like  t  wo  .serpents,  while  Don  Sylva  and  the  peons  fought 
desperately  with  the  other  Indians. 


C  H  AP  T  E  R    XXIV. 

THE    WOO  D-R  ANGERS. 

WE  will  now  return  to  certain  persons  of  this  story,  whom  we  have  too 
long  forgotten. 

Although  the  French  had  remained  masters  of  the  field,  and  succeeded  in 
driving  back  their  savage  enemies  when  they  attacked  the  hacienda  upon  the 
Rio  (jiila,  they  did  not  hidefumi  themselves  the  fact  that  they  did  not  owe 
this  unhoped-for  victory  solely  to  their  own  COM  rage.  The  final  charge 
made  by  the  Comanches,  under  the  orders  of  Eagle-head,  had  alone  decided 
the  victory.  Hence,  when  the  enemy  disappeared,  the  Count  de  Lhorailles, 
with  un-om'non  generosity  and  frankness,  especially  in  a  man  of  his  character, 
warmly  thanked  the  Comanches,  and  made  the  hunters  the  most  magnificent 
offers.  The  latter  modestly  received  the  count's  flattering  compliments,  and 
plainly  declined  all  the  offei's  he  made  them. 

As  Bellnuneur  told  him,  they  had  no  other  motive  for  their  conduct  than 
that  of  helping  fellow-countrymen.  Now  that  all  was  finished,  and  the 
French  would  be  long  free  from  any  attacks  on  the  part  of  the  savages,  they 
had  only  one  thing  more  to  do — take  leave  of  the  count  so  soon  as  jxissible, 
and  continue  their  journey.  The  count,  however,  induced  them  to  spend  two 
more  days  at  the  colony. 

Donna  Anita  and  her  father  had  disappeared  in  so  mysterious  a  manner, 
that  the  French,  but  little  accustomed  to  Indian  tricks,  and  completely  igno- 
rant of  the  manner  of  discovering  or  following  a  trail  in  the  de.-ert,  were  in- 
capable of  going  in  search  of  the  two  persons  who  had  been  carried  off.  The 
count,  in  his  mind,  had  built  on  the  experience  of  Eagle-head  and  the  sagacity 
of  his  warriors  to  find  traces  of  the  haciemlero  and  his  daughter.  He  ex- 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  152 

plained  totlie  hunters,  in   the  fullest  details,  the   service  he    hoped  to  obtain 
from  them,  and  they  thought  tlu-y  had  no  right  to  refuse  it. 

The  next  nmrnin^,  at  daybreak,  Ka.-le-liead  divided  his  detachment  into 
four  troops.  •  ach  commanded  by  a  renmvned  warrior,  and  after  pving  the 
men  their  HIM  ructions,  he  sent  them  off  in  font  different  diivrt ions.  '1  he 
Comanchcs  heat  up  the  country  with  that  cleverness  and  skill  the  red  skins 
IHJSSC.-^  to  .v)  eminent  a  degree,  but  all  was  useless.  'I'he  four  tr«*.|xs  returned 
one  after  the  other  to  the  hacienda  without  making  any  discovery.  Though 
they  had  gone  over  the  ground  for  a  radius  of  about  twenty  Icagm  s  round 
tl.e  co'.uuy — though  not  a  tuft  of  gra>s  or  a  shrub  had  escaped  their  minute 
Investigation — the  trail  eoiild  not  he  found.  We  know  the  reason — water 
alone  keeps  no  trace.  Don  Sylva  and  his  daughter  had  bein  carried  do\\n 
with  the  current  of  the  Rio  (iihi. 

••  You  see,"  lielhumeursaid  to  the  count,  "  we  have  done  what  wax  human- 
ly possible  to  recover  the  persons  carried  off  during  the  fight  ;  it  i>  evident 
that  the  ravishers  embarked  thiiu  on  the  river,  and  carried  them  a  long  dis- 
tance cru  they  landed.  Who  can  say  where  they  are  now  ?  The  red  skins 
go  i'a>t,  especially  when  Hying;  they  have  an  immense  advance  on  us,  as  the 
j,l  success  i.i  our  efforts  proves  :  it  would  be  madness  to  hope  to  catch  them. 
Alh  w  us,  then,  to  take  our  leave:  perhaps,  dining  our  {Kissage  H<T<*>S  the 
prairie,  we  may  obtain  information  which  may  presently  prove  rsefi  I  to  you." 

"  I  will  no  longer  encroach  on  your  kindness,"  the  count  replied  ct»urteotw- 
ly.  '•  (io  \\  henever  you  t  hink  proper,  cabal leros  ;  bnt  accept  the  e\|  region 
of  my  gratitude,  and  believe  that  1  should  be  happy  to  prove  it  to  you  other- 
wise than  by  sterile  won  Is.  LVsides,  1  am  also  going  to  leave  the  colony, 
ami  we  n;ay  j  erhaps  meet  in  the  desert." 

The  next  momirg  the  hunters  and  the  Comanches  quitted  the  hacienda, 
and  buried  themselves  in  the  prairie.  In  the  evening  Eagle  head  had  the 
camp  formed,  and  llie  fires  lighted.  After  supper,  u  hen  all  wire  rd-o.  t  to 
retire  for  the  night,  the  sachem  sent  the  hacltesto,  or  public  crier,  to  snn.mon 
the  chiefs  to  the  council  fire. 

"  My  pale  brothers  will  take  a  place  near  the  chiefs,"  Eagle-head  Paid,  ad- 
dresMMg  the  Canadian  and  the  Frenchman. 

The  latter  accepted  with  a  nod,  and  sat  down  by  the  brasero  mining  the 
Comanche  chief*,  who  were  already  wailing,  silent  and  re-en  cd,  lor  the  coin- 
nninieation  from  their  great  sachem.  When  Kagh-  head  had  taken  his  M-at 
he  made  a  sign  to  the  pipe-bearer.  The  latter  entered  the  circle,  re-|  ect  fully 
earning  in  his  hand,  the  calumet  of  medicine,  whose  stem  was  adon  ed  with 
feather-,  and  a  multitude  of  l»clls,  while  the  bowl  was  hollowed  out  of  a  white 
stone  only  found  in  the  Kocky  Mountains. 

The  call, met  was  filled  ami  lighted. 

The  pijH.'-bcarcr.  v»  MMUI  as  !.<•  entered  the  circle,  turned  the  bow  1  of  the 
pipe  to  the  four  cardinal  points,  murmuring  in  a  low  voice-  m\-tc  ii<>  >  u  ortb«t 
intejvUd  to  invoke  the  go^nl-uill  of  the  Wacondah,  the  Ma>tcr  of  'Life,  :u»d 
remove  from  the  mind>  of  the  chiefs  the  malignant  influence  of  the  first  man, 
Then,  still  holding  tl.e  bowl  in  his  hand,  he  presented  the  mouth-pit •<••  to 
Eagle-head,  saying  in  a  loud  and  impressive  voice, — 

••  My  father  is  the  fir>t  sacln  m  of  the  valorous  nation  of  the  Cornanchea. 
Wisdom  resides  in  him.  Although  the  snows  of  age  have  not  yet  fio/cn  the 
thoughts  in  hi.>  brain,  like  all  men  he  is  Mil  j. « t  to  error.  Let  my  lather  re- 
liect  ere  he  s^ak  ;  for  the  words  \\  Inch  p.i&s  Lis  lips  tuiibt  be  such  as  the  C'om- 
auches  Gin  hear." 

lt  My  son  has  spoken  well,"  the  sachem  replied. 

lie  "took  the  tul»e,  and  smoked  silently  for  a  few  moments;  then  he  re- 
moved the  stern  from  his  lips,  and  handed  it  to  his  nearest  neighbour.  'I  he 
pipe  thus  passed  round  the  circle,  and  not  a  chief  uttered  a  word.  When 


154  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

each  ha  1  Mro';ed,  and  all  the  tobacco  in  the  bowl  was  consumed,  the  pipc- 
tearer  shook  out  the  ash  into  his  left  hand,  and  threw  it  into  the  brazier,  ex- 
claiming,— 

"  The  chiefs  are  assembled  here  in  council.  Their  words  are  sacred. 
Wacoinlali  has  heard  our  prayer.  It  is  granted.  Woe  to  the  man  who  for- 
gets tuat  conscience  must  be  his  only  guide  !  " 

After  uttering  these  words  with  great  dignity  the  pipe-bearer  left  the  cir- 
cle, murmuring  in  a  low,  though  perfectly  distinct  voice, — 

l"  Just  as  the  ash  I  have  thrown  into  the  fire  has  disappeared  for  ever,  so 
the  words  of  the  chiefs  must  be  sacred,  and  never  be  repeated  outside  the 
sachems'  circ  e.  My  fathers  can  speak;  the  council  is  opened.'' 

The  pipe  bearer  departed  after  this  warning.  Then  Eagle-head  rose,  and, 
after  surveying  all  the  warriors  present,  took  the  word. 

u  Comanche  chiefs  and  warriors,"  he  said,  '  many  moons  have  passed  away 
since  1  left  the  villages  of  my  nation  ;  many  moons  will  again  {.ass  ere  the 
ail-powerful  \Vacondah  will  permit  me  to  Mt  at  the  council  ,lire  of  the  great 
Comanche  sachems.  The  blood  has  ever  flowed  red  in  my  veins,  and  my 
heart  has  never  worn  a  skin  for  my  brothers.  The  words  which  pass  my  lips 
are  >poken  by  the  will  of  the  Great  Spirit.  lie  knows  how  I  have  kept  up 
my  love  for  you.  The  Comanche  nation  is  powerful ;  it  is  the  Queen  of  the 
Prairies.  Its  hunting-grounds  cover  the  whole  world.  What  need  has  it  to 
ally  itself  with  other  nations  to  avenge  insu.ts  ?  Does  the  unclean  coyote 
retire  into  the  den  of  the  haughty  jaguar?  Does  the  owl  lay  its  egg<  in  the 
eagle's  nest  ?  Why  should  the  Comanche  walk  on  the  war-path  with  the 
Apache  dogs?  The  Apaches  are  cowardly  and  treacherous  women.  I  thank 
^.my  brothers  for  not  only  having  broken  with  them,  but  also  for  having  helped 
me  to  defeat  them.  Now  my  heart  is  sad,  a  mist  covers  my  mind,  because  I 
must  separate  myself  from  my  brothers.  Let  them  accept  my  farewell.  Let 
the  »Je  xer  pity  n.e,  because  1  shall  walk  in  the  shadow  far  from  him.  The 
sunbeam>,  .however  burning  they  may  be,  will  not  warm  me.  I  have  spoken. 
Have  1  spoken  well,  powerful  men? 

Eagle-head  sat  down  amid  a  murmur  of  grief,  and  concealed  his  face  behind 
the  skirt  of  his  b  .ffalo  robe.  There  was  great  silence  in  the  assembly;  the 
Jester  seemed  to  interrogate  the  other  chiefs  with  a  glance.  At  length  lie 
rose,  and  took  the  word  in  his  turn  to  reply  to  the  sachem. 

'•  The  J enter  is  young,"  he  said  ;  '•  his  head  is  good,  though  he  doe?  not 
posses^,  the  great  wisdom  of  his  father.  Eagle-head  is  a  sachem  beloved  by 
the  Wacondah.  Why  has  the  Master  of  Life  brought  the  chief  back  among 
the  warriors  of  his  nation  ?  Is  it  that  he  should  leave  them  again  almost  im- 
mediately ?  No  ;  the  Master  of  Life  loves  his  Comanche  sons.  lie  could 
not  have  desired  it.  The  warriors  need  a  wi*e  and  experienced  chief  to  lead 
them  on  the  warpath,  and  instruct  them  round  the  council  fire.  My  father's 
head  is  grey  ;  he  will  teach  and  guide  the  warriors.  The  Je-tcr  cannot  do 
so  ;  he  is  still  too  3'oung,  and  wants  experience.  Where  my  father  goes  his 
sons  will  <io  ;  what  my  father  wishes  his  sons  will  wish.  But  never  let  him 
speak  again  about  leaving  them.  Let  him  disperse  the  cloud  that  obscures 
his  mind.  His  sons  implore  it  by  the  mouth  of  the  Jester— that  child  he 
brought  up,  whom  he  loved  so  much  formerly,  and  of  whom  he  made  a  man. 
1  have  spoken  ;  here  is  my  wampum.  Have  I  spoken  well,  powerful  men  ?" 

After  uttering  the  last  words  the  chief  threw  a  collar  of  wampum  at  Ea- 
gle-head's feet,  and  sat  down  again. 

"  The  great  sachem  must  remain  with  his  son-,"  all  the  warriors  shouted, 
as,  in  their  t  rn,  they  threw  down  their  wampum  collars. 

Eagle-heal  rose  with  an  air  of  great  u.>!ul,r,v  ;  he  allowed  the  skirt  of  his 
buffalo  robe  to  fall,  and  addressing  the  anxious  and  a'teutive  as -e.iibly,  said: 

"  1  have  heard   the   strain  of  the  walkon,  the  beloved  bird  of  the  \Vacon- 


THE   TIGKK-SL  A  V  KIl.  155 

dab,  cell- 1  in  my  ears  ;  it*  UanuonioUH  v,  to  my  heart  an-1  made 

it  thrill  with  joy.      My  ><m-.  arc  g'»o.'.  and  I  !•  !         I    -t    ;   ;M  I  ten 

warriors  to  IK-  chosen  by  him-elf.  will  accompany  me,  and  tin-  otherswid 
ride  to  the  great  villages  of  my  nation  to  ami.  it-iuru 

ol'  Kagle-liead  among  hi*  brotiur-.      I   ha\e  -pokfli." 

The    .Je-ter    tm-n    a-ked   for    the   great  caluinet,  which    wax    imn-.eiliately 
brought  him    by  the   pi JK-  bearer,  aid  tiie  chiefs  s:uoked  in  turn,  wit:i«. 
tcring  a  word.      When  tne  la>t  putT  of  *moke  had  di-.-olved,  I  In-  li., 
whom  the  .K-Mer  had  >aid  a  few  words  in  a  I.. 
of  ti.>  -ted  to  accompany  tbo  sachem.    Tin-  . 

bowed  to  Kagle-head,  and  silently  mounting  their  horse-,  started  at  a  »:illop. 
l-'or    a    con-i'Viabie    period  the  .Je.-ter   and  Kaglc-liead  ronvi-i-M-d  in  a  |,,w 
tone:,  at  the  end  of  the  palaver,  the  Jester  and  lii-  uan  11'  in  their 

turn,  Ka-le-nead,  IJellninieur  and  I/on  Louis  remaining  alon...  'I'.n-  Canadian 
\\atciied  the  Indians  depart,  and  when  they  had  disappeared  he  tur.ied  to  the 
chief. 

"  Humph  !M  be  said,  "will  n»>t  the  hour  soon  arrive  to  speak  frankly  and 
terinin.-iir  «»;;r  lm>ine.->  /  Since  our  departure  from  home  we  have  troubled 
ourselve*  a  ^;ieat  deal  about  others,  and  forgotten  our  own  affair.- ;  is  it  not 
lime  ti.  think  of  them  ?*' 

iu!e-!iead  doe-  not  forget  :  lie  is  preparing  to  satisfy  his  pale  broil.- 
J'clhuiiH  ur  bm>l  out  lau^liin^, 

u  K\cu-e  me,  cuief ;   (or   my  part,  my  business  is  very  simple.     Yo  i  : 
me   to  arrompany  you   aiu)   here   I  am.       May  I  be  a  tl  >£  of  an  Aptni:-  ii'  | 
know    au\  tinn^    more!     Louis,  it   is  different,  is  looking  Cur  a  well-beiuted 
friend  :   remember  tuat  we  have  pr«>mi>ed  t^»  help  him  to  (hid  him." 

••  Kaglt  l.rad."  the  chief  r»  plied,  '•  has  divided  liis  heart  between  his  broth- 
has   half.     The   road   we   have  to  go  is  lonjr,  and  mn>t  la-t  several 
moon-.      \Ve  i-hall  ci'o—  the  jireat  de.-ert.     'i'lie  Je.-ter  and   his  warrior-  have 
pone    to   kill    buffaloes  for  the  journey.     I  will  lead   my  white  brother*  to  a 
spot    wiiicii  I  <ii>«o\ered   a  few  moons  a^o,  and    which  is  only  known  to  my- 
self.    Tiie  \\  aeondah,  when  he  created  the  red  man,  pive  him  >tren^th,  cour- 
i!id    boundless   hunting-grounds,  sa_)  in-j    to   him:  '  He  free  and   happy.' 
lie  pave  i  i-di.m    and   x-ience,  by  teaching  them  to  know  the 

valut-  <;i  1  yello-.v  jx-bbles.     The  red  men  ami  the  p;t 

.11-11  follow  the  path  the  <i;<at  Spirit  lia-  traced  for  them.     1  am  leading 
my  l.r-ii .  er-  t«-  a   |  1  : 

•• '!  o  |  ;.!  .    i  !"  tne  t\\o  men  exclaimed  in  ama/ement. 
'•  \  e>.      \\*i:at  would  an  Indian  Ktc-lu-in  «lo    \\itli  the*e  enornn.i:.-  - 
\vhicii  lie  kii'.u-  not   ho\»-  to  :i>e  ?      <iold    i-   i  \  situ  the    ] 

Let  my  brothel's  be  happy;  Kagle-head    will  ;:i\e  them 
ever  tl 

"An   i;i-tant,  chief.      What   the  ileuce   would  you    have  me  do  with  your 
gold  /      I  am  a  i.unter,  whom  his  hor>c  and  rifle  Miliirr.      At    tiie  |M>rioU  that 
-fil    the    prairie    inlle    «iij;;nyo|   Loyal  I. "art,  we    fr«  <|i:eht  \\  ti.'ind 
rich  nugi.eis  beneath  our  feet,  and   never  turneil  from  tlu-m  \\iiu  4-.nn.«-uii»t .'' 
••\\"!iat   net-d    have  \\  ••  of  j.-ol«|  ?''  hon    Louis    >ii|iported  lii-  In- lid.      ••  L»-t 
\is  forget  tui-  placer,  however  i  ich  it  may  In-.      Let  n-  in  •'. 
to  am  one,  for  crin.>  aiv    committed    daily  for  -o!<!. 

scheme,  chief.      We  thank  jn-u  for  \  oi.r   r  j 

for  ii.-  t«»  arecpt  it/' 

'•  Well  fpokrn,'1  llelhumeur    exclaimed  joyoii.-l\.  , 

which  we  make  no  ux-  <>\\  and  li-t  u*    live  liki-  the  free  linntci-  Hy 

bea\i-n>,    i-liief,    I    a. -MI re    \  oil,    had     \  on    told    me  at  the  lime  t  In-  obfrrt  for 
which  you  \\  i.-ned  me  to  follow  you,  I  >llould  have  let   \nn  st.., 
Eagle-Head  *mi!eU 


150  THE    TIGER-SLA  YER 

*'  F  expecte  1  the  answer  my  brothers  li'ive  iriven  me,"  lie  said.  "T  am 
happy  to  s«»e  that  I  h-ive  not  been  mistaken.  Yes,  gold  is  u-ele-^  to  them  — 
they  ftFefirht;  but  that  is  not  a  motive  for  despising  if.  Like  nil  tilings 
placed  on  the  earth  by  the  Great  Spirit,  gold  is  useful.  My  brothers  will  ac- 
comprnv  me  to  the  placer,  not,  as  they  suppose,  to  collect  nuggets,  but,  mere- 
ly to  know  where  they  are,  and  go  to  fetch  them  when  wanted.  Misfortune 
ever  arrives  unexpectedly  :  the  most  favored  bv  the  Great  Spirit  to  day  are 
often  tho-e  whom  to  morrow  he  will  smite  most  severely.  Well,  if  the  gold 
of  this  placer  is  as  nothing;  for  the  happiness  of  my  brothers,  who  insures 
them  that  it  may  not  serve  some  dav  to  save  one  of  their  friends  from  des- 
pair ?» 

'  That  is  true,"  said  Don  Louis,  touched  by  the  justice  of  this  reasoning. 
"  What  you  say  is  wise,  and  deserves  consideration.  We  can  re fu-e  to  en- 
rich ourselves  ;  but  we  have  no  right  to  despise  riches,  which  may  pos>ibly, 
at  s.»me  future  day.  serve  others." 

"  If  that  is  really  your  opinion  I  .adopt  it;  besides,  as  we  are  on  the  road, 
it  is  as  well  to  uo  to  the  end.  Still,  the  mm  who  had  told  mu  that  I  should 
one  day  turn  gafflibufiino  would  have  astonished  me.  In  the  meanwhile  I 
will  go'  and  try  to  kill  a  deer." 

Ou  this  Belhumeur  rose,  took  liis  gun,  and  went  off  whistling.  The  Jes- 
ter was  two  days  absent.  About  the  middle  of  the  third  day  lie  reappeared. 
Six  horses  la-soed  in  the  prairie  were  loaded  with  provisions;  six  others  car- 
ried skin-*  filled  with  water.  Eagle-head  was  satisfied  with  the  way  in  which 
the  chief  had  performed  his  mission  :  but  as  the  journey  they  had  to  moke 
wis  a  long  one  (for  they  had  to  cross  the  Del  Norte  desert  at  its  longest 
par^,)  he  ordered  that  each  horseman  should  carry  on  his  saddle,  with  his 
alforias.  two  little  water-skin*. 

All  t'ltso  measures  having  been  carefully  taken,  the  horses  and  their  riders 
rested.  Fres'i  an  I  of  go:>l  cheer,  the  next  morning  at  daybreak,  the  little 
troop  started  in  the  direction  of  the  desert.  We  will  say  nothing  of  the 
jo'imey,  save  that  it  was  successful  and  accomplished  under  the  most  favora- 
ble auspices  :  no  incident  occurred  to  mar  its  monotonous  tranquillity.  The 
Coman«'hes  and  their  friends  crossed  the  desert  like  a  tornado,  with  that 
hewHon;*  speed  of  which  they  alone  possess  the  secret,  and  which  renders 
them  so  dangerous  wh-..in  they  invade  the  Mexican  frontiers. 

():i  arriving  in  the  prairies  of  the  Sierra  de  los  Cornanches,  Eagle-head  or- 
der? 1  the  Jester  and  his  warriors  to  await  him  in  a  camp  which  he  formed 
on  the  skirt  of  a  virgin  forest,  in  an  immense  clearing  on  the  banks  of  an  un- 
known stream  (which,  after  a  course  of  several  leagues,  falls  into  the  Hiodel 
N<>rte),  and  then  departed  with  his  comrades.  Tiie  sachem  foresaw  every- 
thing. Although  he  placed  entire  confidence  in  the  Jester,  he  did  not  wish, 
through  prudential  motives,  to  let  him  know  the  site  of  the  placer.  At  a  la- 
ter date  lie  had  cause  to  congratulate  himself  on  this  step. 

The  hunters  pushed  on  straight  for  the  mountains,  which  rose  before  them 
like  apparently  insurmountable  granitic  walls  ;  but  the  nearer  they  approach- 
ed the  more  the  mountains  sloped  down.  They  Soon  entered  a  narrow  gorge, 
at  the  entrance  of  which  they  were  forced  to  leave  their  horses.  It  was  no 
doubt  owin-.:  to  this  apparently  futile  circumstance  that  this  placer  had  not 
yet  been  discovered  by  the  Indians,  for  the  red  men  never,  under  any  circnm- 
Btanee.s,  dismount.  It  may  justly  be  said  of  them,  as  of  the  Guavhos  of  the 
Pampas,  in  the  Banda  Oriental  anil  Patagonia,  that  they  live  on  horseback. 

Bv  a  singular  accident,  during  one  of  his  hunts,  a  deer  whHi  Eagle-head 
had  wounded  entered  this  gone  to  die,  The  chief,  who  had  been  following 
the  animal  for  several  ho-u%  did  not  hesitate  to  go  in  quest  of  it.  After  tra- 
versing the  whole  length  of  the  gorire  he  reached  a  valley,  a  kind  of  funnel 
formed  between  two  abrupt  mountains,  which,  except  on  this  .side,  rendered 


Til  K    TI  <:  (•;  1C-  SI.  A  V  KK.  157 

ar*ccs<  not  only  dillic  it  1.  i  .  ;.;...  A.  ililc,  Theiv  lie  found  tin-  den  expiring 
mi  a  MM  i  -j.-n..  -  .  iv»vu  witii  nu__  ||  i|MUrkllMl 

like  ill  -    inr. 

On   cnf<  riii1,:    '  t.,e  iiuuu-r*  could  imt  reprcs-  a  crv  of  admiration 

an  I  a  •>  Mid  lerof  'delight.  IIo.v.  \u-  .strong  a  man  i.iav  '>••  morally,  x»hl  |x«- 
K1.—  «-*  :.:i  ir  Tc-i-  •]'»  e  a»  tr.ictit.n.  an<l  cv  it-  a  powerful  fascination  over  hmi. 
lielhu  i"  MI-  A'tM  t  <•  lir-t  t.i  ivo\cr  id-  cal"  .n< 

u()li      ill  P  .u-    >ni,  \\ipi.i.i    I   ic     peispiratio.i  which    |Niiired  down  hi- 
"  tin-  iv  a.  •  nuu^ii  lii'l.li-n    in    (hi>   iiiNik  of  i-:irl  li.      <  io  1  -r.ml   licit 

tliev  iua\  .v.  i»i-  tin-  li.i»):iu-->  <>;'  nii.nVm  I  :" 

-  Wii.it  .-liaMVr  •:  ••  l...: 


.:iis,  his    ciiest   lie.ivi.i^  an  1  !ii>  r\  ir.-  >])ark- 
I 

ic-iM-a-l  al  mi1  iv;.:anlt.Ml  ilu->o  iiicalciiialiN*  lirlu'-  with  an  nuiili*.  r»-ut  rvc. 
Tiii.-i  i-  i-videiitly  our  pr.»pv.'i-t.y,"  tuc  Cairi  li;tn  .-»ai  1.  ••  a>  t,u-  ullief 
it  to  H-." 


T'n-  >;H-MCIII  inatli-  a  >i;jn 

"11  iiu  •:  »  itlil  if  I.  '  \\\'  '!•>  ll-'t  IH'.-il  J  ill'  ;.•<•..  I,  which 

:it  tui.-  nioiiK-iii  \\oiild  In-  iiioix-  injurious  to  us  than  u.^ful.  Slirl,  a-  :KM>UU 
can  fori'MM-  tiic-  I'ituiv,  wo  u.u^t  as^mv  •»  ;r.-c'ivi-s  «»f  tin*  o>viu'r%>ii}».  l.«-t  us 
oovtT  tuis  ^aii  I  witii  !i*avrs  a:i<l  bnmciMWj  >•>  t,i;i!  if  acri  lent  k-a-1  a  litinici'  to 
tne  t«ij)  <•!'  one  «>f  t!,i'>e  niountains,  lie  may  nut  see  the  jiold  .^iiininj:  ;  tlien 
ue  \\ill  pile  up  >t«.  lies,  and  eio.>e  the  mo.it  in»f  the  valley  ;  lof  What  ii.i.-  liajH 
jH.*ned  to  Ka^le-hea  1  inu«t  n<»t  iiappen  to  another.  What  i>  \«i  r  opinioii  /' 

"  To  \\<>rk  !  :'  Don  l^oui-.  exclaimed.  ••  1  am  anxious  not  to  iia.e  my  eyes 
i!a//.!ed  loii^irhv  tni>  dial»olical  nu  tal,  \\hicli  makes  me  giddy/' 

u  To  \vorK,  then  !"  Uellnnnenr  replied. 

The  tiiree  men  cut  do.vn  licanches  from  the  trees,  and  formed  with  them 
a  thick  carpet,  under  which  the  ainifcroUa  Mind  and  impels  i  ntnv.y  tlU- 


Will  you  not;  take  a  specimen  of  the  n  iuri_rfts  ?''  Belliumeitr  said   to   tbo 
count.     "  I'erliaps  it  may  l>e  useful  to  take  a  lew."  ' 

"  .My  laitii,  no  !"  the  latter  replied,  shni^giu^  his  shoulder*;  "  I  do  not 
care  for  it.  Take  some  if  you  will  :  for  my  part,  1  will  not  soil  my  lingers 
witu  tin-in." 

The  Canad'an  liejran  lau^liin^,  picked  up  tw«>  or  three  nu^^rt^  a.>  i.n-e  as 
\valn-i  t>.  a.  id  placi-d  them  in  hi«  bullet  JMHIC.I. 

"Sapristi  !'  In-  >ai  1,  "if  I  kill  »uu<lry  Apaches  with  these  they  will  have 
no  ripit  t»  coinplaiu,  I  I  .  ; 

Tliev  <]  :itted  tne  valley,  the  entraii'-e  to  which  they  stopped  up  with 
in;t.-M-s  4>1'  ro.-k.  Tiiey  tiien  i\v_rained  t  lieir  Imrse'.  and  returned  to  t.n-  camp, 
niter  cutting  notches  in  the  tree-,  >o  a.^.  to  hi-  ,-ilile  to  rcco^nUe  tin-  >|x»r,  if,  at 
:i  later  <latf.  cii  .•uii^iam-cs  led  them  to  the  placer,  which.  \»  e  are  Lound  to 
sav  in  their  favour,  not  one  of  them  desired. 

Tne  -JeMcr  \v  as  an  ailing  his  friend^  with    the  intense^t   im]Kit'u  nee.     The 
prairie  was   not  ijuiet.      In   the  inorninz  the  runners  had    |H-ivei\ed  a  -mall 
rand  tit    pah-  -I'aci  •>  i\  -o-.-i  11-4   tiie  Del    Norte.  and    pi'-icce  liirz   UtWar*!  a  i.. 
the  top  tjt  \vhic:i  they  had  cM'-:i:np,'d.      At  thi>  moment  a  larjre  Apache  party 
had  (TiiSM-d  the  river  at   the  >ame  spot.  appar«-nt  ly  following  a  tr.iil. 

'•Oil.  o!i  !  "  lielUumuiir  >ai  I,  -  it  i^  ])laiu  that  tho-e  il..->  are  •  .shite 

people." 

••  S.iall  we  let  them  IHJ  massacred  beneath  our  eyes  T1  Louis  exclaimed  in- 
dignantly. 

••  My  faith,  no  !  If  it  depend  mi  us,'1  the  hunter  said,  li  jx-rhap-  this  <;,„„! 
net  ion  will  (.1.  tain  our  |Kirdon  f.r  the  fcelinjr  nfcoveto  -i-ne>-  to  wliich  sve  Toi 
y  nsoTr.ent  \  iehled.  S|»eak.  Ea^le-head  !  what  will  )ou  do  i 

'•  S;«\v  t'le  pal-  M  chief  replied. 


158  THE    TIGER-S  LAYER. 

The  oHers  were  immediately  riven  by  the  s-iehem,  and  executed  with  that 
intelli.reMce  and  promptitude  characteristic  of  picked  warriors  on  the  war- 
trail.  Til'*  hordes  were  left  under  the  guard  of  a  Gonanneh  ,  find  t!ie  detach- 
ment, d  vilel  into  two  patties,  advanced  cautiously  into  the  prairie.  With 
the  exception  of  Eayle  head,  the  Jester,  Lo^is,  and  Belhumeur,  who  Had  rifles, 
all  the  others  were  armed  with  lances  and  bows. 

"  Dia'Jjond  cut  diamond,"  the  Canadian  said  in  a  low  voice.  "We  arc  go- 
ing to  surprise  those  who  are  preparing  to  s"rprise  others." 

At  this  moment  two  shots  were  heard,  followed  by  others,  and  then  the 
'  war-cry  of  the  Aptiches  echoed  tar  and  wide. 

"  Oh.  oh  !"  Belhumeur  said,  rushing  forward,  "  they  do  not,  fancy  we  are 
so  near." 

AH  the  others  followed  him  at  full  speed.  Tu  the  meanwhile  the  combat 
had  assumed  horrible  proportions  in  the  cavern.  Don  Sylva  and  the  peons 
resisted  courageously  ;  but  what  could  they  do  against  the  swarm  of  enemies 
that  assailed  them  on  every  side  ?  * 

The  Ti  »rero  and  the  Black  "Bear  'interlaced  like  two  serpents,  were  seek- 
ing to  stab  each  other.  Don  Martial,  when  he  perceived  the  Indian,  leaped 
back  so  precipitately  that  he  cleared  the  passage  and  reached  the  hall,  in  the 
centre  of  which  was  the  abyss  to  which  we  before  alluded.  It  was  on  the 
ver»e  of  this  gulf  that  the  two  men,  with  flashing  eyes,  heaving  chests,  and 
lips  closed  by  fury,  redoubled  their  efforts. 

Suddenly  several  shots  were  heard,  and  the  war-cry  of  the  Cotnanches 
burst  forth  like  thunder.  The  Black  Bear  loosed  his  hold  of  Don  Martial, 
leape  1  ou  his  f.-et,  and  rushed  on  Donna  Anita;  but  the  girl,  though  suffer- 
ing from  an  indescribable  terror,  repulsed  the  savajre  by  a  supernatural  eff>rt. 
The  latter,  already  wounded  by  the  Tfprero's  pistols,  tottered  backwards  to 
the  edge  of  the  abyss,  where  he  lost  his  balance.  lie  felt  that  all  was  over. 
Bv  an  instinctive  effort  he  stretched  out  his  arms,  seized  Don  Martial  (who, 
half  stunned  by  the  conte-t  he  had  been  engaged  in,  was  trying  to  rise), 
made  him  totter  in  his  turn,  and  the  two  fell  to  the  bottom  of  the  abyss, 
uttering  a  horrible  cry. 

Donna  Anita  rushed  fonvarl  :  she  was  lost — when  suddenly  she  felt  her- 
self seized  by  a  vigorous  hand,  and  rapidly  dragged  backwards.  She  had 
fainted. 

The  Comanchos  had  arrived  too  late.  Of  the  seven  persons  composing  the 
little  band,  five  had  been  killed  ;  a  peon  seriously  wounded,  and  Donna  Anita 
alone  survived.  The  younjr  jrirl  had  been  saved  by  Belhumcur.  When  she 
opened  her  eves  again  she  smiled  irently,  and  in  a  childlike  voice,  melodious 
as  a  bird's  carol,  began  *in:rinr  a  Mexican  Seguedilla.  The  hunters  recoiled 
with  a  cry  of  horror.  Donna  Anita  was  mad  ! 


C  II  A  P  T  E  K     XXV. 

EL      A  H  U  E  H  U  K  L  T  . 
/ 

TUE  Omit,  de  Lhorailles  entered  the  great  Del  Norte  desert  under  the 
guidan.-e  of  f'K'hares.  Oi'rmcr  the  (ir-<t  «Ta\p  all  went  <>',\  famou-ly  ;  the  v.  eath- 
er  \\a>  map'inti 'eMt—jrthe  provisions  more  than  plentiful.  \\'ith  tiieir  innate 
carelessness  r'i<;  Frenc'imeu  forgot  their  past  f -a »•••«,  and  laughed  at  t';e  :i!:;r-n 
whi -h  the  Mexican  neons  did  not  f.'ase  nnnifesfin^  ;  for  letter  inft>niied, 
they  did  no*-  'vcu'eal  the  terror  which  the  prolonged  stay  of  the  company  iu 
this  tci-i-il)].-  re-'.ion  eau-ed  them. 

Tlse  tluvs  were  spent  in  the  desert  in  wa.nder:jr.r  p'M'Mjiseles  ly  in  :;:':uvi!  of 


THE    TTGKH-SLAYEn.  lf>9 

the  Apaches,  who  had  at  length  brcome  invi-ililo.  At  t  mes  they  perceived 
an  Imlim  horseman  in  tin*  di-tawv.  apparently  mocking  them,  who  piv.M-ntly 
came  up  close  to  their  lines.  Hoot  and  >addle  wa.s  sounded  ;  even  body 
mounted,  aid  p-trsued  this  phantom  horseman,  who,  after  allowing  them  to 
follow  liiiu  f..r  a  long  time,  Maidenly  disappi  ami  like  a  \  i>io:». 

This  1 1  Hide  of  life,  however,  through  its  very  monotony,  1>< g:m  to  urow  in- 
sipid and  insupportable.  To  see  nothing  l>ut  j^rcy  siml,  ever  .«and—  not  a  l»ird 
or  a  \\ild  be;i>t — tawny,  weather-worn  rocks — a  few  lofty  ahiiehi:elts — a 
species  of  cedar,  with  long  hare  branches,  covered  with  a  greyi>h  mosx.  hang- 
ing in  heavy  festoons — had  nothing  very  amusing  about  it.  'J'he  tioop  l.( -:m 
to  grow  dUpirited.  The  reflection  of  the  sun  on  the  sand  caused  optl.almia; 
the  \\uter,  decomposed  by  the  heat,  was  no  longer  drinkable  ;  the  j  i-o\i-ions 
were  npuuing  ;  and  scurvy  had  conuneiu-ed  it>  ravages  among  t!  i-  soldiers. 
TUi-  state  of  things  was  growing  intolerable:  measures  mu>t  be  taken  to 
get  out  of  it  as  rapidly  as  possible. 

The  count  formed  his  ollicei-s  into  a  council  ;  and  it  was  composed  of  Lieu- 
tenants Martin  I.eroux  and  Diego  Leon.  Sergeant  IJoileau.  11!  /.  and 
Cuchares.  The.-e  live  jieisons,  pre>ided  over  by  the  count,  took  tl.eir  .M-at.s 
on  bales,  while  a  sh(»J't  distance  t>ff,  the  soldiers,  reclining  on  the  gio-.-ml,  tried 
to  .shelter  themselves  beneath  the  shadow  of  their  picketed  l.<  ; 

It  was  urgent  to  assemble  the  council,  for  the  company  was  rapidly  de- 
moralising;  there  was  revolt  in  the  air,  and  complaints  had  already  been 
openly  uttered.  The  execution  at  the  Casu  (Jrande  was  completely  forgot- 
ten; and,  if  a  reinedy  were  not  soon  found,  no  one  knew  what  terrible  eon>e- 

s  this  general  dissatisfaction  might  not  entail. 

"  Gentlemen,"  the  Count  de  Lhorailles  said,  "  1  have  assembled  you  in  or- 
der to  cuiisult  with  you  on  the  means  to  put  a  stop  to  the  despondency  which 
has  fallen  on  our  company  during  the  la^t  few  days.  The  circumstances  aio 
HO  serious  that  I  shall  feel  obliged  by  your  giving  me  your  frank  opinion.  The 
general  welfare  is  at  stake,  and  in  such  a  state  of  things  each  has  a  riiiht  to 
expnoB  bis  opinion  without  fear  of  wounding  the  self-love  of  any  one.  Sj  «ak; 
I  am  listening  to  you.  You  f'u>t.  Sergeant  Boileau:  as  the  lowest  in  rank, 
yon  must  take  the  word  first." 

The  sergeant  was  an  old  African  soldier,  knowing  his  duties  perfectly — a 
thorough  trtiojK'r  in  the  fullc.-t  sen.-e  ».f  the  word;  but  we  m1  that 

ho  wa.s  nothing  of  an  orator.     At    this  Tdil  from    his   chief  ho 

smiled,  blushed   like  a  girl,  let  hw    heaii  :>  mouth, 

and  stopped  short.     The  Count.  ment,  kindly  i 

him  to  s|M  ak.     At  length,  after  many  an  effort,  tbe  eci'g*  I  to  be- 

gin in  a  hoarse  and  jK-rfectly  indistinct  voice. 

"  Ilan-r  it.  captain  p  lie  said,  "  I  can  understand  that  the  situation  is  not 
at  all  pleasant ;  but  what  is  to  be  done  ?     A  man   i^  a  tioojei,  or 
Hence  mv  opinion  is  that  you  ought  tlact  as  you  think  projn  r  ;  and  we  ai-o 
here  to  obey  \ou  in  ev.-ry  i-e^pcct,  as   is   our  peremptory  duty,  without  anj 
Kubsr(pient  or  offensive  after-thought." 

The  oflicei-s  could  not  refrain  from  laughing  at  the  worthy  sergeant's  pro- 

;  of  faith,  as  he  stopped  all  ashamed. 

u  It  is  your  turn,  capataz,"  the  captain  paid.     u  (live  us  your  opinion." 
Bias  Yasque/  fixed  his  burning  eyes  on  the  count. 
<l  Do  you  really  ask  it  frankly  ?" 'be  said. 
«  Certainly  I  do." 

"  Then  listen,''  he  said  in  a  firm  voice,  and  with  an  accent  bearing  convic- 
tion. "  My  opinion  is  that  we  are  betrayed  ;  that  it  is  impossible  for  UK  to 
leave  this  desert,  where  we  shall  all  peris!;  in  pui-suing  invLsiblu  enrniies,  who 
Lave  caused  us  to  fall  into  a  trap  which  will  hold  its  all." 

Theaa  words  produced  a  jrreat  impression  on  the  headers,  wbo  understood 
tlieir  perfect  truth.  The  captain  shook  his  bead  thoughtfully. 


160  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

li  I)i»;»  I'las,"  he  said,  '•  you  hrin.j,  then,  a  htvivy  accusation  agVmst  some 
one.  Have.  u>u  conscientiously  weighed  the  purpoi  t  of  your  words  V" 

•'  Vest,'1  iif  replied ;  but " 

14  Remember  liiat  we  can  admit,  no  va  me  suppositions  Things  have  readi- 
ed .Mich  a  pi  tci  i  that,  if  you  wish  us  to  give  you  t.ue  ere  ience  you  doul>t.e.-siy 
deserve,  you  must,  br.ng  your  euarges  precisely,  and  not  shrink  from  pro- 
iioiinciiig  any  name  if  it  be  necessary. 

•"  I  .shail  s.irink  from  nothing,  .senor  conde.  ]  know  all  the  responsibility 
1  t«i  ;e  o.i  myself.  No  Coiisi  deration,  however  powerful  it  may  be,  will  make 
me  co  aeeai  wliat  I  regard  as  a  sacred  duty." 

"  Speak,  then,  in  Heaven's  name ;  and  (j!od  grant  that  your  words  may 
not  co  upei  me  to  intlict  an  exemplary  chastisement  on  one  of  our  comrades." 

Tnt*  capataz  collected  himself  tor  a  moment,  All  anxiously  awaited  lii.s 
cxplauatio  i :  Cuchares  especially  was  saifering  from  an  emotion  w  inc.i  ho 
found  great  difficulty  in  concealing.  Bias  Vasqucx,  at  length  .spoke  again, 
whilk*  keeping  his  eye  so  fixed  on  the  count  that  the  latter  began  to  under- 
stand th.it  he  and  his  men  were  'he  victims  o;  ho ,ne  odious  t  readier/. 

"Se.ior  conde,"  13  as  said,  "  we  Mexicans  ha\e  a  law  from  which  we.  never 
depart. — a  law  which,  indeed,  is  inscribed  in  the  hearts  of  all  honest  men.  It 
is  this  :  in  tue  same  way  that  the  pilot  is  responsible  for  Hie  -ship  intrusted 
to  him  to  take  into  port,  tiie  pioneer  responds  with  ni-.  person  for  ti.e  Kifety 
of  tue  people  he  undertakes  to  guide  in  tue  desert.  In  tiiis  case  no  di  >cus- 
siou  is  possible  :  either  the  guide  is  ignorant,  or  he  is  not.  If  lie  U  ignorant, 
Wuy,  Hguin.it  tue  opinion  of  everybody,  has  lie  forced  us  to  enter  the  drs.-ir, 
wiiib  taking  on  himself  the  entire  responsibility  of  our  jo  irney  ?  ^Vhy,  ii'  lio 
be  not  ignorant,  did  he  not  guide  us  straight  across  the  desert  as  he  agreed  to 
do,  instead  of  leading  us  at  venture  in  pursuit  of  an  enemy  who,  he  knoAs  a  ; 
we.l  as  I  do,  is  never  stationary  in  tue  desert,  but  traver^  s  it  at  hi.-,  iior.se'; 
utmost  sj>eed  when  forced  to  enter  it  ?  Hence  on  ihe  guide  alone  mu.sf.  weig.t 
the  blame  of  all  that  has  happened,  as  he  was  master  of  events,  and  arranged 
them  as  he  thought  proper." 

Cuchares,  more  and  more  perturbed,  knew  not  what  countenance  to  keep; 
his  emotion  was  visible  to  all. 

'•  VViiat  reply  have  you  to  make  ?"  the  captain  asked  him. 

Under  circa  instances  like  tiie  present,  tue  man  attacked  has  only  t\v> 
means  of  defence — to  feign  indignation  or  contempt.  Cuciiares  chose  the  lat- 
ter. Summoning  up  all  his  boldne-ss  and  impudence,  he  raised  his  voice, 
shrugged  his  shoulders  disdainful!} ,  and  answered  in  an  ironical  tone, — • 

"I  will  not  do  Don  Bias  the  honor  of  discussing  his  remarks  :  there  are 
certain  accusations  which  an  honest  man  scorns  to  repel.  It  was  my  duty  to 
act  in  conformity  with  the  orders  of  tue  captain,  wuo  alone  command"  here. 
Since  we  have  been  in  the  desert  we  iia-ve  lost  twenty  men,  killed  by  the 
Indians  or  by  disease.  Can  I  be  logically  rendered  resjwmsi'hle  for  this  iniv- 
fortune  ?  Do  I  not  run  the  same  risk  as  all  of  you  of  perishing  in  the  desert? 
Is  it  in  my  power  to  escape  the  fate  that  threatens  you  ?  If  the  captain  had 
merely  ordered  me  to  cross  the  desert,  we  fthould  have  done  so  long  ago:  lie 
told  me  that  he  wished  to  catch  the  Apacl.es  up,  and  1  was  compiled  to 
obey  him." 

These  reasons,  specious  as  they  were,  were  still  accepted  as  good  by  the 
officer.-.  Uucuares  breathed  again,  but  he  had  not  yet  finished  witn  tae 
capata/. 

"  Good  I'1  the  latter  sid-?.  "Strictly  speaking,  you  might  be  right  in  your 
remarks,  -in  1  1  wo  -H  put  f«ith  in  your  M;a tenants,  had  1  not  other  and  gra- 
ver e!j:irge&  to  I/ring  at  ain-t  you.0 

The  Kipero  s-jn^Li-d  hi*  shoulders  once  ino?-.'. 

u  1  know,  and  can  s'.ipply  j.-rooi'^  t.iat,  i»y    your  remarks  and  inainna^ionSi 


TIIK    TIGER-SLATS*,  1C1 

yousr,\v  !i>n»r  '  LIMMlgthepfomiaild  tr»op.-r-.     This  mornin;;.  In-fore 


the  i-n-fif',  I  •  •lii-vinjr  t:  at  no  ore  saw  \ou,  \on  rule,  and  with  your  i'.-.> 
pier  -e-  1  1  1-  i  of  tin-  fifteen  water.«.kin>.  -till  left  u-.  Tin-  ii'.ise  I  made  in  r.m- 
ninjr  toward  you  alone  prevented  the  uitire  run-,  inn  ation  of  \oiir  crime. 
At  tin-  mo  neut.  when  the  captain  »,ve  us  order*.  In  a-M-mlile,  I  was  al»mt  to 
warn  him  of  what  you  ha-'  done.  What  bftVe  JTOU  to  aiMAtfff  to  t:a->  .'  De.- 
feii  I  y  1  1'  j  I'M'  If.  if  ir  IK-  jM»s-»iUe." 

All    rye-  were  I'lXe  1  oil  tfie  lepeio.       He  wa*i  |i\i,|.       Hi,  >  y,  s.  s  .M'.lM-d   wit!l 

l>lo«»d  wvre  It  fjj:ii-«l.     Be€ire  it  waft  pnMible  tu  gtiew  hi  'iiv\v 

a  pistol   an  I  tiiv  I  at  tlic  (rapata/,,  \v.,u  foil  \vitho-it     •  \\itli 

n  ti;'iM'  IKI  1:1  I  IK'  U'M|M.'il  on  liU  lior  c,  an  I  siarlr  1  at  I  -il  -pct-d.      Ti,<  i\-  \ 
;'.;il>K«  tumult.     All  ru>lic<l  iu  p'  r-uit  ol'ti.i'  U-pcro. 

'•  I>o»vii  \virh  tin-  inunlcivr!  "  the  captain  s;iouti-ii?  ur/in^  lii>  men  l.y 
aivl  jr«'-'  T«is  to  M-i/.i.'  tlic  \illaiu 

T!K-  KrtMM'hiiHMi,  ivii'K-ivd  f  .irious  liy  tliis  put-suit.  IK^HII  iirinjr  OM  • 
ns  on  a  u  lid  l»  a>t.     For  a  loiijr  tiuu*  In*  \\.-o  ^»-en  ^allopin^  IM^  lior*r  in  - 
<liii'Cti.m,  ;ui  1  Hvkiuir  in  vaiu  to  q   it  tin-  cin'ir  iu  wliicu  tlu-  froopvix  had  iu- 
l.i:u.      At  liMijith  In-  tottoivd  iu   I,  is  Kiddk1,   irit-d   t«>  hold  0:1   l»\    Ins 
ij.aui',  and  ro!k"l  iu  tin-  sand,  uttering  u  parting  yell  of  fury,     lie  uus 
dead  ! 

Tli;-  --'-d  cxtriMiu*  <'\citiMu«M)t  nmou^  the  soldier-:   from  fcliin  m«  - 

nii'iit  tliey  1"  It  that  they  were  l>etriyed.  and  l»;-_':i:i  to  we  t  ;eir  jM.sition  a    it 
really      I        r    |1  iff  to  *V,  desjH-r.ite.      In  vaiu  did  the  captain  try  to   i,  - 
them  alitt'e  ri>nrn«f  ;  tliey  would  listen  to  nothing,  l»ut  yielded  to  ihai 
loir-  .1  I  p.r.ilyes  everything.     The  fount  of.U  r 

for  depa;  H  p..  and  they  N-t  out. 

l>ut  \\hithershould  theypo?  in  what  ilirertion  turn  ?  Xo  (ran-  \va-»  vi  ilile. 
Still  t  .ey  niii-eheil  on,  r.itii  r  to  ehau.^e  Iheir  place  tiiati   in  the   ijop.-  ..T  eni- 
er^iuj:  from  the  M  pulchre  of.sjiud  in  which  they  l»elie\e«l  iheiii>ei'.e.  i  Ur.ialiy 
buried.      I'.i^ht  days  pas-v  d  a\\  ay  —  eijrht  ceiiti'ries  —  during  whicii  the  a 
turei-s  (ii-liiicd  the  n,o>t  frightful  torture  ofthiot  and  linger.     'lhetr« 

.  then*  w«  re  neither  chief*  nor  r»oliiier«  ;  it  \\as  a  legion  "f  iii  I 
cou>  •  a  lk>ck  of  wild  liea.-t-  ready  t(j  devour  each  ot.ier  «»:i  tin 

opport  u  .n  ty. 

The\    !.:.«!  !"(•:!  tvi'uced  to  ^plitlin<^  the  ear-*  of  the  horses  and   miil> 
order  to   ';•  Dk  the  l>lo<xl. 

AVaii  'I'i-in^  now  on  ti.i-  side.  Iio\v  on  th:  t.  dcn-ived  liy  the  i 
t>\-    the   Ifi'iiinu;   >'  lil.»-au  s.    the\     \\iTe  a    |i«y    to  a    l.i    •  Collie 

laiiyhed  \\ith  a  M!!V  air  ;  and  I  hew  ^  i-  the\   n>. 

their  ft!   t'hev  were  mad.     (  )t  her.-  Imindioiied  t  lu-ir  u  eajnu  ~ 

mi>in^  I!H  ir  li>ts.  with  menace^  and  CUI-M-*.  !••  iieavm.  u  hieii.  ii.xe  .m  m.i 
plate  nf  ivd  hot  inrtl,   .-eemed     the    impla'-al.le    doiii"    ot'    ihrir    >and\     t<.ml». 
Nome  ie:,  '.Ted  ra   in(_'  In   -  t  i.eir  hraiiiN.u  I.)  . 

co:nr.fi«-s  who  ui-re  t'x>  \\  calx  minded  1o  follow  their  example. 

The  Ki-'-neh  are.  perhap-.  1  1  e  Kr.i\«->t  inti'-n  in  eM-i.  i  «  ,   -.   |.i,t.  »n  t  :,e  other 
liuii'l.  -t  to  demoralise.      If  t  .-eir  impnl-e  i'  irn-i-nl. 

,  it    :  when  th«  \M!  hin^  1\  d!  st  op  I  hem  —  in 

,- 
nioiv  thnn  ii  man,  or  !• 

The  r-.imt    lie    I.  hoi-ail.  • 
all   his   hope<.       !  .:-[    t.»  in  II-  -'l     f!i.'   i:e-t    t.i  l'.->t.  Hot    e.iti.r.'  a   mo'jtu- 

ful  till  b«  wa.<  ceriain  that  all  h;"  contra  ;  with 

UiieXjMi'.vic.l    l«-nde;-i  »  —    and 

enou..  •:•••  i   •'•  1  •  .•, 

Of  Uia<    Vasip-ex/    ]K-O  •!.     The  rc>t  h^-1  so'i/ht 

safety  i::  lii,.;:it  j  that  is,  t  uc  a  litlk-  further  on    to   .-^ek   .'i  hi-lden 


1C2  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

tomb.  All  those  who  remained  faithful  to  the  captain  were  Europeans, 
principally  Frenchmen,  brave  Dauph'yeers,  utterly  ignorant  of  the  \vsiv  to 

combat   and  conquer    the  implacable  enemy  against  \vlioiu  they  stni:rj;l'*'d 

the  desert !  Of  the  two  hundred  and  forty-live  men  of  which  the  squadron 
was  composed  on  its  entering  the  Del  Xorte,  one  hundred  and  thirty-three 
stili  survived,  if  \ve  allow  that  these  haggard,  flesh  less  spectres  were  men. 

The  most  atrocious  pain  which  a  man  can  suffer  in  the  desert  is  the  fright- 
ful malady  called  caUntura  by  the  Mexicans.  The  calentura!  that  tempor- 
ary madness,  which  makes  you  see,  during  its  intermittent  attacks,  the  most 
dainty  and  delicious  dishes,  the  most  limpid  water,  the  most  exquisite  wines; 
which  satiates  and  enervates  you;  and,  when  it  leaves  you,  renders  vou  more 
desponding,  more  broken,  than  before,  for  you  retain  the  remembrance  of  all 
you  possessed  during  your  dream. 

Cue  da}',  at  length,  the  wretched  men,  crushed  by  misery  and  torture  of 
every  description,  refused  to  go  further,  and  resolved  to  die  where  accident 
had  led  them.  They  lay  down  in  the  torrid  sand,  beneath  the  shadow  of  a 
few  ahuehuelts,  with  the  firm  will  of  remaining  motionless  until  death,  which 
they  had  summoned  so  loudly,  came  at  length  to  deliver  them  from  their 
woes.  The  sun  set  in  a  mist  of  purple  and  gold,  to  the  sound  of  the  curses 
and  imprecations  of  these  wretched  men  who,  expecting  nothing  more,  hoping 
nothing  more,  had  only  retained  the  cruel  instincts  of  the  wiM  beast. 

Still  the  night  succeeded  to  da;  — gradually  calmness  took  the  place  of  dis- 
order. Sleep,  that  great  consoler,  weighed  down  the  heavy  eyelids  of  tho 
men,  who,  if  they  did  not  sleep,  fell  into  a  state  of  somnolency,  which 
brought  a  truce  to  their  fearful  tortures,  if  only  for  a  few  moments.  Sud- 
denly, in  the  middle  of  the  night,  a  formidable  srund  aroused  them — a  fiery 
whirlwind  passed  over  them — the  thunder  burst  forth  in  terrific  peals.  The 
sky  was  black  as  ink — not  a  star,  not  a  moonbeam — nothing  but  dense 
gloom,  which  hid  the  nearest  objects  from  sight. 

The  poor  fellows  rose  in  great  terror;  they  dragged  themselves  on  as  well 
as  they  could  one  after  the  other,  crouching  together  like  a  flock  of  sheep 
surprised  by  a  storm,  wishing,  with  that  inborn  egotism  of  man,  to  die  to- 
gether. 

"  A  temporal,  a  temporal !"  all  shouted  with  an  expression  of  voice  impos- 
sible to  render. 

It  was  in  reality  the  temporal,  that  fearful  scourge,  which  was  unloosing 
all  its  fury,  and  passing  over  the  desert  to  subvert  its  surface.  The  wind 
howled  with  extraordinary  force,  raising  clouds  of  dust,  which  whirled  round 
with  extreme  velocity,  spd  formed  enormous  spouts,  that  ran  along  and  sud- 
denly burst  with  a  frightful  crash.  Men  and  animals  caught  in  the 'tornado 
were  whi-ked  away  into  a  space  like  straws. 

li  Down  on  the  ground '"  the  count  shouted/in  a  tremendous  voice;  ••  down 
on  the  ground.  'Tis  the  African  simoon  !  Down,  all  of  you  who  care  for 
life !» 

Strange  to  say,  all  these  men,  weighed  down  with  atrocious  sufferings, 
obeyed  their  chiefs  orders  like  children,  so  great  is  the  terror  death  inspires 
in  the  darkness.  They  buried  their  faces  in  the  sand,  in  order  to  avoid  tho 
burning  blast  of  air  that  passed  over  them.  The  animals  crouched  on  the 
ground,  with  outstretched  necks,  instinctively  followed  their  example.  At 
intervals,  when  the  wind  granted  a  moment's  respite  to  these  unhappy  men, 
whom  it  took  a  delight  in  torturing,  cries  and  groans  of  agony  could  be 
heard,  mingled  with  blasphemies  and  ardent  prayers,  that  rose  from  the 
crowd  stretched  trembling  on  the  earth.  The  hurricane  raged  through  the 
entire  night  with  ever  increasing  fury;  toward  morning  it  gradually  grew 
calmer;  by  sunrise  it  had  exhausted  all  its  strength,  and  rushed  toward  other 
regions. 


THE    TIGER-SLAYER.  1C3 

Tho  aspect  of  the  desert  was  complete!}'  changed.  Where  villeys  had 
been  «m  tl.e  previous  ni;Jit  were  now  mountains;  the  sj  .  tui-ied, 

uprooted,  or  burned  by  the  hurricane,  displayed  their  blackened  and  denuded 
skeletons ;  no  trace  of  a  footpath,  no  sign  of  man  ;  all  W:LS  Hat,  smooth,  and 
evil  as  a  mirror.  The  French  had  been  reduced  to  sixty  men  ;  flu-  other* 
liad  been  carried  off  or  swallowed  up,  and  there  was  no  IIOJK-  of  disi-uvenng 
the  slightest  sign  of  them:  the  sand  was  stretched  over  them  like  an  im- 
mense greyish  snroud. 

The  tir>t  feeling  the  survivors  experienced  was  terror;  the  second,  de- 
spair; and  then  the  groans  and  complaints  broke  out  again  with  renewed 
strength.  The  count,  gloomy  and  sad,  regarded  these  |x»ur  people  \\  jth  an 
expression  of  the  tenderest  pity.  Suddenly  he  burst  out  into  a  fe\en>h 
laugh,  and  going  np  to  his  hoise,  which  had  liitherto,  by  a  sj^cies  of  miracle, 
1  iii-:i-trr,  hw  saddled  it,  while  gently  patting  it  and  humming  a  \\ild 
tune  between  his  teeth. 

His  companions  watched  him  with  a  feeling  of  vague  terror,  f-r  which 
the)'  could  not  account.  Although  they  were  so  miserable,  their  captain 
still  represented  superior  intellect  and  a  firm  will,  those  two  foive*  whicll 
have  so  much  jM»wer  over  coai-se  natures,  even  when  circumstances  have 
forced  them  to  deny  them.  In  their  wretched  condition  they  collected  round 
their  chief,  like  children  seek  shelter  on  their  mother's  breast.  He  had  ever 
condoled  them,  (living  them  an  example  of  courage  and  abnegation  :  thus, 
when  they  saw  him  acting  as  he  wa>  doing,  they  had  a  foreboding  of  evil. 

When  his  horse  was  saddled  the  count  leaped  lightly  on  its  back,  and  for 
a  few  minutes  he  made  the  animal  curvet,  though  it  had  the  greatest  diffi- 
culty in  keeping  on  its  feet. 

'•Hold  my  line  fellows  !"  he  suddenly  slioutcd.  "Come  up  here  !  You 
had  better  listen  to  some  good  advice — a  parting  hint  1  wish  to  give  you  be- 
fore 1  go." 

The  soldiers  dragged  themselves  up  as  well  as  they  could,  and  surrounded 
him. 

The  count  turned  a  plan-  faction  around. 

••  Exigence  •  a  mineral-'  -  it  not?"  he  said,  bursting  into  a  laugh; 

"  and  if  is  otten  a  heavy  chain    to    drag  about.     How    i;  <•   wo 

have  been  wand*  ring  about  tl-i-  ave  I  had  the  thought  which  I  nowr 

utter  openly.      Well.  .  -  \on, 

I  struggled  "courageously  :  that  hojxj  I  no  lon»er  po»css.     A>  \u-  n. 
want  within  a  few  da\> — a   few  hour>.  jK-rhap.^— 1  p.-t-ler  t  .  li.,!-..  il  at  once. 
Believe  n-e,  you   had*  better    follow  my    example.     It   is  soon  done,  as  )o;i 
shall  • 

While  uttering  the  last  words   he  drew  a  pistol  from   his  v,  .     At 

this  moment  cries  were  heard. 

"  What  is  it  ?     Wiiat  is  the  matter  ?" 

"  Look,  captain  !  People-  are  coming 'at  last  to  our  help  :  we  arc  saved  !* 
Sergeant  Boileau  exclaimed,  rising  like  a  spectre  by  his  bide,  and  seizing  his 
arm. 

The  count  freed  himself  with  a  smile. 

u  You  are  mad,  my  poor  comrade,"  he  said,  looking  in  the  direction  indi- 
cated, where  a  cloud  of  dust  really  rose,  and  was  rapidly  appnwhii.g ;  "no 
one  can  come  to  our  aid.  We  have  not  even,"  he  added  with  bin*  r  irony, 
u  the  resources  of  the  shipwrecked  crew  of  the  Medu>a  !  We  are  condemned 
to  die  in  this  infernal  desert.  Farewell,  all — farewell !" 

He  raised  the  pUtol. 

"  Captain,"  the  sergeant  cried  reproachfully,  "  take  care!  You  have  no 
right  to  kill  yourself.  You  are  our  chief,  and  must  be  the  Just  to  die :  if  not, 
jou  are  a  coward  !;l 


164  THE    TIGER-SLAYER. 

The  count  bounded  as  though  a  serpent  had  stung  him,  and  made  a  ges- 
ture as  if  to  rush  on  the  sergeant.  The  expression  of  his  face  was  so  savage, 
his  movement  so  terrible,  that  the  sergeant  was  terrified,  and  recoiled.  The 
captain  profited  by  this  second  respite,  put  the  muzzle  of  the  pistol  to  his 
temple,  and  pulled  the  trigger.  He  fell  to  the  ground,  with  his  skull  frac- 
tured. 

The  adventurers  had  not  yet  recovered  from  the  stupor  this  frightful  event 
had  thrown  them  into,  when  the  cloud  of  dust  they  had  noticed  burst  vio- 
lently asunder,  and  they  perceived  a  troop  of  mounted  Indians,  in  the  midst 
of  whom  were  a  woman  and  two  or  three  white  men,  galloping  toward  them 
at  full  speed.  Convinced  that  the  Apaches  had  come  up  to  deal  them  tha 
final  blow,  like  vultures  collecting  round  a  fallen  buffalo,  they  did  not  even 
attempt  an  impossible  resistance. 

"  Oh !"  one  of  the  hunters  shouted,  as  he  leaped  from  his  horse  and  rushed 
toward  them,  "  the  poor  fellows  !" 

The  new  comers  were  Belhumeur,  Louis  and  their  friends  the  Comanches. 
In  a  few  words  they  were  apprised  of  all  that  had  happened,  and  the  tortures 
the  French  had  endured. 

"Good  heavens!"  Belhumeur  shouted,  "if  provisions  failed,  you  had 
water  in  abundance  j  then  why  do  you  complain  of  thirst  ?" 

Without  saying  a  word,  Eagle-head  and  the  Jester  dug  up  the  ground 
with  their  knives  at  the  foot  of  an  ahuehuelt.  Within  ten  minutes  an  abun- 
dant stream  of  limpid  water  poured  along  the  sand.  The  Frenchmen  rushed 
in  disorder  toward  it. 

1  Poor  fellows  !"  Don  Louis  murmured,  "  shall  we  not  take  them  from  this 
spot?" 

"  Do  you  think  I  would  let  them  perish,  now  I  have  restored  them  to 
hope  ?  Poor  girl !"  casting  a  melancholy  glance  at  Dona  Anita,  who  was 
laughing  and  cracking  her  fingers  like  castanets,  "  why  is  it  not  equally 
easy  to  restore  her  to  reason  ?" 

Don  Louis  sighed,  but  made  no  reply. 

The  French  then  learned  a  thing,  which  would  have  saved  them  all  pro- 
bably, had  they  known  it  sooner — that  the  ahuehuelt,  which,  in  the  Co- 
manche  Indian  dialect,  signifies  the  Lord  of  the  Waters,  is  a  tree  which  grows 
in  arid  spots,  and  its  presence  ever  indicates  either  a  spring  flush  with  the 
soil  or  a  hidden  source ;  that  for  this  reason  the  red-skins  hold  it  in  venera- 
tion; and,  as  it  is  principally  found  in  the  deserts,  they  designate  it  also  by 
the  name  of  the  Great  Medicine  of  Travellers. 


Two  days  later  the  adventurers,  guided  by  the  hunters  and  Comanches, 
quitted  the  desert.  They  speedily  reached  the  Casa  Grande  of  Moctecuzo- 
ma,  where  their  saviours,  after  giving  them  the  provisions  they  stood  in  such 
pressing  need  of,  finally  left  them,  hardly  knowing  how  to  escape  from  their 
hearty  thanks  and  blessings. 

(Those  of  our  readers  who  have  felt  an  interest  in  Don  Louis  will  find 
his  history  continued  in  another  volume,  called  "  THE  GOLD  FINDERS.") 


THE    END. 


slayer. 


M225092 


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